^^"h^Xy^^Zvc^ 


Rosalind 


Tis  he  :  slink  by,  and  note  him  " 

As  You  Like  It  Ad  III  Sceng  i 


p- 


f% 


'% 


Hooklovers  Ecfiiionl 


€>^s  you 
SLil^e  it 

V 

2flHiarT\S}\al^spGare 


«^/^otGS,  C/lossary, 
Critical    Oorr\n\ei\t,s^ 
arvd*  «/2^etKpcf  of  Stucfy 


—  /--.---w^.^. 


4F 


Copyright,   190 1 

By 

THE    UNIVERSITY    SOCIETY 


COLLEG 
LIBRAR 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT, 


Preface.  ^ 

The  Editions.  As  You  Like  It  was  published  for  the 
first  time  in  the  First  Foho ;  a  Quarto  edition  was  contem- 
plated many  years  previously,  but  for  some  cause  or  other 
was  '  staled,'  and  the  play  is  mentioned  among  others  in 
1623,  when  Jaggard  and  Blount  obtained  permission  to 
print  the  First  Folio,  as  '  not  formerly  entered  to  other 
men.'  The  text  of  the  play  in  the  four  Folios  is  substan- 
tially the  same,  though  the  Second  Folio  corrects  a  few 
typographical  and  other  errors  in  the  first  edition. 

As  You  Like  It  was  in  all  probability  produced  under 
circumstances  necessitating  great  haste  on  the  part  of  the 
author,  and  many  evidences  of  this  rapidity  of  composi- 
tion exist  in  the  text  of  the  play,  e.g.  (i.)  in  Act  I.  Sc. 
ii.  line  284,  Le  Beau  makes  Celia  '  the  taller,'  which  state- 
ment seems  to  contradict  Rosalind's  description  of  herself 
in  the  next  Scene  (I.  iii.  117),  '  because  that  I  am  more 
than  common  tall' :  (ii.)  again,  in  the  first  Act  the  second 
son  of  Sir  Rowland  de  Boys  is  referred  to  as  '  Jaques,' 
a  name  subsequently  transferred  to  another  and  more  im- 
portant character ;  wherefore  when  he  appears  in  the  last 
Act  he  is  styled  in  the  Folio  merely  '  second  brother  '  (iii.) 
'old  Frederick,  your  father'  (I.  ii.  87)  seems  to  refer  to 
the  banished  duke  ('  Duke  senior  '),  for  to  Rosalind,  and 
not  to  CeHa,  the  words  '  thy  father  s  love,  etc.,  are  as-i 
signed  in  the  Folio ;  either  the  ascription  is  incorrect,  or 
'  Frederick '  is  an  error  for  some  other  name,  perhaps  for 
'  Ferdinand,'  as  has  been  suggested ;  attention  should  also 
be  called  to  certain  sHght  inaccuracies,  e.g.  '  Juno's  swans  ' 
(vide  Glossary)  ;    finally,  the  part  of  Hymen  in  the  last 


Preface  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

scene  of  the  play  is  on  tlie  whole  unsatisfactory,  and  is 
possibly  by  another  hand. 

Date  of  Composition,  (i.)  As  You  Like  It  may  safely 
be  assigned  to  the  year  1599,  for  while  the  play  is  not  men- 
tioned in  Meres'  Palladis  Tamia,  1598,  it  quotes  a  line 
from  Marlowe's  Hero  and  Leander,  which  was  printed 
for  the  first  time  in  that  year — five  years  after  the  Poet's 
death — and  at  once  became  popular.*  The  quotation  is  in- 
troduced by  a  touching  tribute  on  Shakespeare's  part  to 
the  most  distinguished  of  his  predecessors  : — 

*  Two  editions  of  Hero  and  Leander  appeared  in  1598.  The 
first  edition  contained  only  Marlowe's  portion  of  the  poem;  the 
second  gave  the  whole  poem,  "Hero  and  Leander:  Begun  by 
Christopher  Marloe  and  -finished  by  George  Chapman..  .Ul  Nectar, 
Ingenium."  The  line  quoted  by  Shakespeare  occurs  in  the  first 
sestiad  (1.  176)  : — 

'Where  both  deliberate,  the  love  is  slight: 
Who  ever  lov'd,  that  lov'd  not  at  first  sight  f 

There  are  many  quotations  from  the  poem  in  contemporary  litera- 
ture after  1598;  they  often  help  us  to  fix  the  date  of  the  compo- 
sition in  which  they  appear;  e.g.  the  Pilgrimage  to  Parnassus 
must  have  been  acted  at  Cambridge  not  earlier  than  Christmas, 
1598,  for  it  contains  the  line  'Learning  and  Poverty  must  always 
kiss/  also  taken  from  the  first  sestiad  of  the  poem.  No  evidence 
has  as  yet  been  discovered  tending  to  show  that  Hero  and  Leander 
circulated  while  still  in  MS. 

It  is  at  times  difficult  to  resist  the  temptation  of  comparing  the 
meeting  of  Marlowe's  lovers  and  Shakespeare's  Romeo  and  Juliet. 
The  passage  in  Marlowe  immediately  follows  the  line  quoted  in 
As  You  Like  It;  cp.\ — 

'He  kneel'd;  but  unto  her  devoutly  prayed: 

Chaste  Hero  to  herself  thus  softly  said, 
"  Were  I  the  saint  he  worships,  I  zvould  hear  him  "... 
These  lovers  parled  by  the  touch  of  hands.' 
Cp.  Romeo  and  Juliet's  first  meeting,   where   Romeo    ('the  pil- 
grim')  comes  to  'the  holy  shrine'  of  Juliet:   'palm  to  palm  is 
holy  palmers'  kiss,'  etc.  (Act.  I.  v.  102).     If  in  this  case  there  is 
any  doubt  at  all,  it  must  be  Marlowe's. 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Preface 

"  Dead  Shepherd,  now  I  find  thy  saw  of  might, — 
Who  ever  loved,  that  loved  not  at  first  sight." — (III.  v.  82,  83.) 

(ii.)  In  the  Stationers'  Registers  there  is  a  rough  mem- 
orandum dated  August  4,  without  any  year,  seemingly 
under  the  head  of  '  my  lord  chamberlens  menus  plaies,'  to 
the  effect  that  As  You  Like  It,  together  with  Henry  the 
Fifth,  Every  Man  In  His  Humour,  and  Much  Ado  About 
Nothing,  are  '  to  be  staied.'  This  entry  may  be  assigned 
to  the  year  1600,  for  later  on,  in  the  same  month  of  that 
year  the  three  latter  plays  were  entered  again ;  moreover 
the  previous  entry  bears  the  date  May  2y,  1600. 

The  Sources.  The  plot  of  As  Yon  Like  It  was  in  all 
probability*  directly  derived  from  a  famous  novel  by 
Shakespeare's  contemporary,  Thomas  Lodge,  entitled, 
"  Rosalynde,  Euphucs'  Golden  Legacie;  found  after  his 
death  in  his  cell  at  Silexedra;  bequeathed  to  Philautus' 
sons  nursed  up  i^nth  their  father  in  England ;  fetcht  front 
the  Canaries  by  T.  L.  Gent."  The  first  edition  of  the  book 
appeared  in  1590,  and  many  editions  were  published  be- 
fore the  end  of  the  century  {cp.  Shakespeare's  Library,  ed. 
W.  C.  Hazlitt,  Vol.  IL,  where  the  1592  edition  of  the 
novel  is  reprinted). 

Lodge's  Rosalynde  is  in  great  part  founded  upon  the  old 
'  Tale  of  Gamelyn'  formerly  erroneously  attributed  to 
Chaucer  as  '  the  Cook's  Tale,'  but  evidently  it  was  the 
Poet's  intention  to  work  up  the  old  ballad  into  '  the  Yeo- 
man's Tale  ' :  none  of  the  black-letter  editions  of  Chaucer 
contains  the  Tale,  which  was  not  printed  till  1721 ;  Lodge 
must  therefore  have  read  it  in  manuscript  ;t  {cp.  The  Tale 

*  Some  have  supposed  that  there  was  an  older  drama  interme- 
diate between  As  You  Like  It  and  Lodge's  Rosalynde',  there  is  ab- 
solutely no  evidence  to  support  such  a  supposition. 

tHarleian  MS.  7334  is  possibly  the  first  MS.  that  includes 
Gamelyn;  it  is  quite  clear  in  the  MS.  that  the  scribe  did  not 
intend  it  to  be  taken  for  the  Cook's  Tale  {cp.  Ward's  Catalogue 
of  British  Museum  Romances,  Vol.  I.  p.  508). 


Preface  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

of  Gamelyn,  ed.  by  Prof.  Skeat,  Oxford,  1884).  The 
story  of  Gamelyn  the  Outlaw,  the  prototype  of  Orlando, 
belongs  to  the  Robin  Hood  cycle  of  ballads,  and  the  hero 
often  appears  in  these  under  the  form  of  '  Gandeleyu/ 
*  Gamwell ' ;  Shakespeare  himself  gives  us  a  hint  of  this  ul- 
timate origin  of  his  story: — They  say  he  is  already  in  the 
Forest  of  Arden,  and  a  many  merry  men  zvith  him;  and 
there  they  live  like  the  old  Robin  Hood  of  England"  (I. 
i.  120-2).'^ 

The  '  Tale  of  Gamelyn '  tells  how  '  Sire  Johan  of 
Boundys  '  leaves  his  possessions  to  three  sons  of  Johan, 
Ote,  and  Gamelyn ;  the  eldest  neglects  the  youngest,  who 
endures  his  ill-treatment  for  sixteen  years.  One  day  he 
shows  his  prowess,  and  wins  prizes  at  a  wrestling  match ; 
he  invites  all  the  spectators  home.  The  brothers  quarrel 
after  the  guests  have  gone,  and  Johan  has  Gamelyn 
chained  as  a  madman.  Adam  the  Spencer,  his  father's 
old  retainer,  releases  him,  and  they  escape  together  to  the 
woods ;  Gamelyn  becomes  king  of  the  outlaws.  Johan, 
as  sheriff  of  the  county,  gets  possession  of  Gamelyn 
again  ;  Ote,  the  second  brother,  bails  him  out ;  he  returns 
in  time  to  save  his  bail ;  finally  he  condemns  Johan  to  the 
gallows. 

There  is  no  element  of  love  in  the  ballad ;  at  the  end  it 
is  merely  stated  that  Gamelyn  wedded  '  a  wyf  bothe  good 
and  feyr.'  This  perhaps  suggested  to  Lodge  a  second 
plot — viz.,  the  story  of  the  exiled  King  of  France,  Geris- 
mond ;  of  his  daughter  Rosalynd's  love  for  the  young 
wrestler ;  of  her  departure   ( disguised  as  a  page  called 

^' Arden'  has  taken  the  place  of  'Sherwood';  but  this  is  due 
to  Lodge,  who  localises  the  story ;  the  Tale  of  Gamelyn,  however, 
gives  no  place  at  all.  The  mere  phrase  'a  many  merry  men' 
suggests  a  reminiscence  of  Robin  Hood  ballads  on  Shakespeare's 
part.  *  Robin  Hood  plays  '  were  not  uncommon  at  the  end  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  e.g.  George-A-Green,  Dozvnfall  and  Death  of 
Robert,  Earl  of  Huntington,  etc.  To  the  abiding  charm  of  Robin 
Hood  and  Maid  Marian  we  owe  the  latest  of  pastoral  plays,  Ten- 
nyson's Foresters. 


A3  YOU  LIKE  IT  Preface 

'  Ganlmede ')  with  Alinda  (who  changes  her  name  to 
AHena)  from  the  Court  of  the  usurper  King  Torismond; 
and  of  the  story  of  Montanus,  the  lover  of  Phoebe.  The 
old  knight  is  named  by  Lodge  '  Sir  John  of  Bordeaux,' 
and  the  sons  are  Saladyne,  Fernandine,  and  Rosader. 
Adam  Spencer  is  retained  from  the  old  Tale."^  The  scene 
is  Bordeaux  and  the  Forest  of  Ardennes.  A  noteworthy 
point  is  the  attempt  made  by  a  band  of  robbers  to  seize 
Aliena ;  she  is  rescued  by  Rosader  and  Saladine :  this 
gives  some  motive  for  her  ready  acceptance  of  the  elder 
brother's  suit;  the  omission  of  this  saving  incident  by 
Shakespeare  produces  the  only  unsatisfactory  element  in 
the  whole  play.  "  Nor  can  it  well  be  worth  any  man's 
while,"  writes  Mr.  Swinburne, f  "  to  say  or  to  hear  for  the 
thousandth  time  that  As  Yoii  Like  It  would  be  one  of 
those  works  which  prove,  as  Landor  said  long  since,  the 
falsehood  of  the  stale  axiom  that  no  work  of  man  can  be 
perfect,  were  it  not  for  that  one  unlucky  slip  of  the  brush 
which  has  left  so  ugly  a  little  smear  on  one  corner  of  the 
canvas  as  the  betrothal  of  Oliver  to  Celia ;  though  with  all 
reverence  for  a  great  name  and  a  noble  memory,  I  can 
hardly  think  that  matters  were  much  mended  in  George 
Sand's  adaptation  of  the  play|  by  the  transference  of  her 
hand  to  Jaques." 

*  This  is  an  old  tradition  preserved  by  Oldys  and  Capell  that 
Shakespeare  himself  took  the  part  of  Old  Adam.  The  former 
narrates  that  a  younger  brother  of  the  Poet  recalled  in  his  old 
age  that  he  had  once  seen  him  act  a  part  in  one  of  his  own 
comedies,  "  Wherein  being  to  personate  a  decrepit  old  man,  he 
zuore  a  long  beard,  and  appeared  so  weak  and  drooping  and  unable 
to  walk,  that  he  was  forced  to  be  supported  and  carried  by  an- 
other to  a  table,  at  which  he  was  seated  among  some  company, 
who  were  eating,  and  one  of  them  sung  a  song."  [N.B. — Shake- 
speare's brothers  predeceased  him.] 

t  A  Study  of  Shakespeare,  p.  151. 

t  Mr.  Swinburne  alludes  to  George  Sand's  Comme  II  Voiis 
Plaira ;  an  analysis  of  which  is  to  be  found  in  the  Variorum  As 
You  Like  It,  edited  by  H.  H.  Furness. 


Preface  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Shakespeare  has  varied  the  names  of  the  three  sons ;  of 
the  rightful  and  usurping  kings  {Duke  Senior  and  Fred- 
erick) ;  Alinda  becomes  Cclia,  Mont  anus  is  changed  to 
Sylvius.  In  the  novel  Alinda  and  Rosalind  go  on  their 
travels  as  lady  and  page ;  in  the  play  as  sister  and  brother. 
The  characters  of  Jaques,  Touchstone,  and  Audrey,  have 
no  prototypes  in  the  original  story.  Various  estimates 
have  been  formed  of  Lodge's  Rosalyndc ;  some  critics 
speak  of  it  as  '  one  of  the  dullest  and  dreariest  of  all  the 
obscure  literary  performances  that  have  come  down  to  us 
from  past  ages,'  others  regard  it  with  enthusiasm  as  '  in- 
formed with  a  bright  poetical  spirit,  and  possessing  a 
pastoral  charm  which  may  occasionally  be  compared  with 
the  best  parts  of  Sidney's  Arcadia.'  Certainly  in  many 
places  the  elaborate  euphuistic  prose  serves  as  a  quaint 
frame- work  for  some  dainty  *  Sonet  to,'  '  Eglog,'  or 
'  Song ' ;  the  xvith  lyric  in  the  "  Golden  Treasury  of 
Songs  and  Lyrics  "  may  at  least  vindicate  the  novel  from 
the  attacks  of  its  too  harsh  critics. 

All  the  world  's  a  stage,  (i.)  It  is  an  interesting  point 
that  the  original  of  these  words,  ''  Totus  miindus  agit  Jiis- 
trionem,"  was  inscribed  over  the  entrance  to  the  Globe 
Theatre;  as  the  theatre  was  probably  opened  at  the  end 
of  1599,  the  play  containing  the  elaboration  of  the  idea 
may  have  been  among  the  first  plays  produced  there.  Ac- 
cording to  a  doubtful  tradition  the  motto  called  forth  epi- 
grams from  Jonson  and  Shakespeare.  Oldys  has  pre- 
served for  us  the  following  lines  : — 

Jonson. —  ""//,  hut  stage  actors,  all  the  world  displays, 

Where  shall  we  find  spectators  of  their  plays f" 
Shakespeare. — "Little  or  much,  of  what  we  see,  zve  do; 

We're  all  both  actors  and  spectators  too."  * 

*  The  authenticity  of  the  epigrams  may  be  put  down  as  very 
slight.  It  is  noteworthy  that  they  are  preserved  "  in  the  same 
collection  of  items  which  Oldys  had  gathered  for  a  life  of  Shake- 
speare, from  which  we  get  the  anecdote  about  Old  Adam  " — the 
tradition  that  Shakespeare  himself  acted  the  part. 

6 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Preface 

The  motto  is  said  to  be  derived  from  one  of  the  frag- 
ments of  Petronius,  where  the  words  are  "  quor  fere  totus 
inundus  excrceat  histrioniam.'''^  The  idea,  however,  was 
common  in  EHzabethan  literature,  e.g.  "  Pythagoras  said, 
that  this  zvorld  zvas  like  a  stage,  whereon  many  play  their 
parts"  (from  the  old  play  of  Damon  and  Pythias)', 
Shakespeare  had  himself  already  used  the  idea  in  The 
Merchant  of  Venice  (I.  i.)  : — "/  hold  the  zvorld  but  as 
the  world,  Gratiano ;  A  stage  zvhere  every  man  must  play 
a  part.'' 

(ii.)  It  should  be  noted  that  Jaques'  moralising  is  but 
an  enlargement  of  the  text  given  out  to  him  by  the 
Duke  :— 

'  Thou  seest  we  are  not  all  alone  unhappy: 
This  zvide  and  universal  theatre 
Presents  more  woefid  pageants  than  the  scene 
Wherein  we  play  in.' 

Now  '  this  wide  and  universal  theatre '  reminds  one 
strongly  of  a  famous  book  which  Shakespeare  may  very 
well  have  known,  viz.  Boissard's  Theatrum  Vitce  Hii- 
mancu  (published  at  Metz,  1596),  the  opening  chapter  of 
which  is  embellished  with  a  remarkable  emblem  (here  re- 
produced) representing  a  huge  pageant  of  universal  mis- 
ery, headed  with  the  lines  : — 

'  Vita  Humana  est  tanquani 
Theatrum  omnium  miscriaruni ' ; 

beneath  the  picture  are  words  to  the  same  effect: — 

''  Vita  hominis  tanquani  circus  vel  grande  theatrum.'  f 

(iii.)  The  division  of  the  life  of  man  into  fourteen,  ten, 
or  seven  periods  is  found  in  Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Roman 
literature  (cp.  Archceologia,  Vol.  xxxv.  167-189;  Low's 
Die  Lebensalter  in  der  Jiidischen  Literatur ;  cp.  also  Sir 
Thomas  Browne's  V  id  gar  Errors,  iv.  12).  In  the  fifteenth 

*  The  reading  is  variously  given  as  histrionem  and  histrioniam. 
t  Cp.  Shakespeare  and  the  Emblem  Writers,  by  H.  Green,  1870. 


Preface 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


century  the  representation  of  the  '  seven  ages  was  a  com- 
mon theme  in  Hterature  and  art;  e.g.  (i.)  m  Arnold's 
Chronicle,  a  famous  book  of  the  period,  there  is  a  chapter 
entitled  'the  vij  ages  of  man  Hving  in  the  world';  (ii.) 
a  block-print  in  the  British  Museum  gives  seven  figures 
'  Infans/  '  Pueritia,'  '  Adolescentia/  '  Jiiventus/  '  Virili- 


tas/  '  Senectiis/  '  Decrepitas/  which  practically,  in  sev- 
eral cases,  illustrate  the  words  of  Jaques ;  (iii.)  the  alle- 
gorical mosaics  on  the  pavement  of  the  Cathedral  at  Siena 
picture  forth  the  same  seven  acts  of  life's  drama. 

There  should  be  somewhere  a  Moral  Play  based  on 

8     . 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Preface 

Jaques'  theme  of  life's  progress :  it  might  perhaps  be  said 
that  the  spirit  of  the  dying  Drama  of  Allegory  hved  on 
in  the  person  of  '  Monsieur  Melancholy  ' ;  he  may  well  be 
likened  to  the  Presenter  of  some  old  '  Enterlude  of  Youth, 
Manhood,  and  Age  ' ;  Romantic  Comedy  was  not  for  him  ; 
'Everyman/  'Lusty  Juventus,'  '  Mundiis  et  Infans/  and 
such  like  endless  moralisings  on  the  World,  the  Flesh, 
and  the  Devil,  were  more  to  his  taste. 

The  Scene  of  Action.  The  locality  of  the  play  is  '  the 
Forest  of  Arden/  i.e.  '  Ardennes,'  in  the  north-east  of 
France,  '  between  the  Meuse  and  Moselle,'  but  Shake- 
speare could  hardly  help  thinking  of  his  own  Warwick- 
shire Arden,  and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  his  con- 
temporaries took  it  in  the  same  way.  There  is  a  beautiful 
description  of  this  English  Forest  in  Drayton's  Polyolhion 
(Song  xiii.),  where  the  poet  apostrophises  Warwickshire 
as  his  own  '  native  country  zvhich  so  brave  spirits  hast 
bred.'  The  whole  passage,  as  Mr.  Furness  admirably 
points  out,  probably  serves  to  show  '  the  deep  impression 
on  him  which  his  friend  Shakespeare's  As  You  Like  It 
had  made.'  Elsewhere  Drayton  refers  to  '  Sweet  Arden  s 
Nightingales,'  e.g.  in  his  Matilda  and  in  the  Idea: — 

''  Where  nightingales  in  Arden  sit  and  sing 
Amongst  the  dainty  dew-impearlcd  tlozuers." 

The  Title  of  the  Play.  The  title  As  You  Like  It  was 
evidently  suggested  by  a  passage  in  Lodge's  *  Address  to 
the  Gentlemen  Readers  ' : — '  To  be  brief,  gentlemen,  room 
for  a  soldier  and  a  sailor,  that  gives  you  the  fruits  of  his 
labours  that  he  wrote  in  the  ocean,  where  every  line  was 
wet  with  the  surge,  and  every  humorous  passion  counter- 
checked  with  a  storm.  If  you  like  it  so ;  and  yet  I  will  be 
yours  in  duty,  if  you  be  mine  in  favour.'  It  was  formerly 
believed  (by  Tieck  and  others)  that  the  title  alluded  to 
the  concluding  lines  of  Ben  Jonson's  Cynthia's  Revels: — 

"I'll  only  speak  what  I  have  heard  him  say, 
'  By — 'tis  good,  and  if  you  like  't  you  may.'  " 


Preface  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

But  Shakespeare's  play  must  have  preceded  Jonson's  dra- 
matic satire,  which  was  first  acted  in  1600. 

Duration  of  Action.  The  time  of  the  play,  according 
to  Mr.  Daniel's  Analysis  (Trans,  of  New  Shakespere 
Soc,  1877-79),  may  be  taken  as  ten  days  represented  on 
the  stage,  with  necessary  intervals  : — 

Day  I,  Act  I.  i.  Day  2,  Act  I.  ii.  and  iii..  and  Act  II. 
i.  [Act  II.  iii.].  Day  3,  Act  II.  ii.  [Act  III.  i.]  ;  an  in- 
terval of  a  few  days;  the  journey  to  Arden.     Day  4,  Act 

II.  iv.  Day  5,  Act  II.  v.,  vi.  and  vii. ;  an  interval  of  a 
few  days.     Day  6,  Act  III.  ii. ;  an  interval.     Day  7,  Act 

III.  iii.  Day  8,  Act  III.  iv.  and  v. ;  Act  IV.  i.,  ii.  and  iii. ; 
and  Act  V.  i.  Day  9,  Act  V.  ii.  and  iii.  Day  10,  Act  V. 
iv.  The  scenes  in  brackets  are  out  of  their  actual  order. 
"  The  author  seems  to  have  gone  back  to  resume  these 
threads  of  the  story  which  were  dropped  while  other  parts 
of  the  plot  were  in  hand." 


10 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Critical  Comments. 
I. 

Argument. 

I.  A  Duke  of  France,  being  dispossessed  of  his  do- 
minions by  his  younger  brother,  Frederick,  retires  to  the 
neighbouring  forest  of  Arden  with  a  few  of  his  faithful 
followers.  His  daughter  Rosalind  remains  at  her  usurp- 
ing uncle's  court  as  companion  for  her  beloved  cousin, 
Celia.  The  two  maidens  witness  a  wrestling-match  be- 
tween the  Duke's  wrestler  and  Orlando,  an  unknown 
youth,  in  which  the  latter  comes  off  victorious.  Duke 
Frederick  is  pleased  with  the  young  man's  prowess  and  is 
disposed  to  show  him  favour  until  he  discovers  Orlando  to 
be  the  son  of  one  of  the  banished  Duke's  friends.  But 
Rosalind  is  delighted  to  hear  of  this  connection,  since  she 
has  become  favourably  disposed  towards  Orlando. 

The  people  are  so  fond  of  Rosalind  because  of  her 
many  accomplishments  and  for  the  sake  of  her  father 
that  Duke  Frederick  in  alarm  banishes  her  also  from  the 
court.  For  love  of  her,  Celia  accompanies  her  cousin  into 
exile. 

II.  Rosalind  assumes  male  attire  and  takes  Celia  to 
the  Forest  of  Arden,  where  they  purchase  a  country-place 
and  reside  as  brother  and  sister.  To  the  same  wood 
comes  Orlando,  who  has  been  forced  to  flee  from  home 
to  escape  the  evil  designs  of  his  elder  brother,  Oliver,  and 
joins  the  company  of  the  banished  Duke. 

III.  Rosalind  is  at  first  dismayed  when  she  learns  of 
the  presence  of  Orlando  in  the  forest,  since  she  is  dressed 
as  a  man.     But  presently  her  inventiveness  leads  her  to 

II 


Comments  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

make  use  of  her  disguise  to  test  his  affection  for  her, 
which  had  been  aroused  at  the  same  time  with  her  own  for 
him  on  the  day  of  the  wrestUng-match,  and  is  now  vent- 
'ing  itself  in  sighs  and  in  verses  fastened  at  random  on 
the  trees.  The  lover  is  invited  to  visit  -the  supposed 
youth  and  talk  to  him  in  the  same  manner  that  he  would 
have  talked  to  Rosalind.  Orlando  is  glad  to  avail  him- 
self of  this  privilege,  partly  as  an  outlet  to  his  pent-up 
sentiment,  partly  because  Rosalind,  even  in  man's  gar- 
ments, exerts  a  subtle  fascination  over  him. 

IV.  Orlando  has  the  good  fortune  to  rescue  his 
brother  Oliver  from  a  serpent  and  a  lioness,  though  be- 
coming slightly  wounded  in  an  encoiinter  with  the  beast. 
On  finding  him  asleep,  Orlando,  remembering  the  wrongs 
he  had  endured  at  Oliver's  hands,  had  been  tempted  to 
leave  him  to  his  fate,  ''  but  kindness,  nobler  ever  than  re- 
venge," made  him  give  aid.  The  two  brothers  are  ten- 
derly reconciled,  and  Oliver  goes  to  acquaint  Rosalind 
with  Orlando's  injury.  Rosalind  is  not  enough  of  a  man 
to  resist  swooning  at  the  tidings. 

V.  Oliver  and  Celia  no  sooner  see  each  other  than 
they  fall  desperately  in  love  and  resolve  upon  speedy  mar- 
riage. Rosalind,  w^ho  is  satisfied  w^th  the  strength  of 
Orlando's  devotion,  promises  him  that  the  wedding  cere- 
mony shall  include  him  also,  and  that  she  will  find  means 
to  bring  his  lady-love  hither.  She  seeks  out  the  banished 
Duke,  her  father,  and  obtains  his  consent,  and  thereupon 
appears  before  them  in  her  proper  attire,  to  the  great  de- 
light of  Orlando  and  the  Duke.  The  wedding,  instead 
of  being  a  double  is  a  quadruple  event,  since  it  includes 
besides  these  two  couples,  a  shepherd  and  his  lass  (who 
had  fooHshly  been  attracted  by  Rosalind  in  her  male 
attire),  and  Touchstone,  the  court  clown,  who  had  fol- 
lowed the  two  maidens  to  the  forest  and  there  become 
enamoured  of  a  country  wench.  The  wedding-party  is 
made  all  the  happier  by  the  tidings  that  the  usurping 
Duke  Frederick,  while  on  his  way  to  the  forest  with  a 
large  army  for  the  purpose  of  exterminating  the  exiles 

12 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Comments 

had  met  an  aged  hermit  who  had  converted  him  "  both 
from  his  enterprise  and  from  the  world."  Struck  with  re- 
morse, he  restores  the  dukedom  to  his  banished  brother 
and  seeks  the  Hfe  of  a  recluse,  leaving  the  rightful  Duke 
and  his  followers  free  to  resume  their  former  rank. 

McSpadden  :  Shakespearian  Synopses. 

il. 
Rosalind. 

I  come  now  to  Rosalind,  whom  I  should  have  ranked 
before  Beatrice,  inasmuch  as  the  greater  degree  of  her 
sex's  softness  and  sensibility,  united  with  equal  wit  and 
intellect,  give  her  the  superiority  as  a  woman ;  but  that, 
as  a  dramatic  character,  she  is  inferior  in  force.  The  por- 
trait is  one  of  infinitely  more  delicacy  and  variety,  but  of 
less  strength  and  depth.  It  is  easy  to  seize  on  the  promi- 
nent features  in  the  mind  of  Beatrice,  but  extremely  dif- 
ficult to  catch  and  fix  the  more  fanciful  graces  of  Rosa- 
lind. She  is  like  a  compound  of  essences,  so  volatile  in 
their  nature,  and  so  exquisitely  blended,  that  on  any  at- 
tempt to  analyze  them,  they  seem  to  escape  us.  To  what 
else  shall  we  compare  her,  all-enchanting  as  she  is? — to 
the  silvery  summer  clouds  which,  even  while  we  gaze  on 
them,  shift  their  hues  and  forms  dissolving  into  air,  and 
light,  and  rainbow  showers? — to  the  May-morning,  flush 
with  opening  blossoms  and  roseate  dews,  and  "  charm  of 
earliest  birds  "  ? — to  some  wild  and  beautiful  melody,  such 
as  some  shepherd  boy  might  ''  pipe  to  Amarillis  in  the 
shade"? — to  a  mountain  streamlet,  now  smooth  as  a  mir- 
ror in  which  the  skies  may  glass  themselves,  and  anon 
leaping  and  sparkling  in  the  sunshine — or  rather  to  the 
very  sunshine  itself?  for  so  her  genial  spirit  touches  into 
life  and  beauty  whatever  it  shines  on ! 

But  this  impression,  though  produced  by  the  complete 
development  of  the  character,  and  in  the  end  possessing 
the  whole  fancy,  is  not  immediate.     The  first  introduction 

13 


Comments  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

of  Rosalind  is  less  striking  than  interesting ;  we  see  her  a 
dependant,  almost  a  captive,  in  the  house  of  her  usurping 
uncle ;  her  genial  spirits  are  subdued  by  her  situation,  and 
the  remembrance  of  her  banished  father ;  her  playfulness 
is  under  a  temporary  eclipse. 

I  pray  thee,  Rosalind,  sweet  my  coz,  be  merry ! 

is  an  adjuration  which  Rosalind  needed  not  when  once 
at  liberty,  and  sporting  "  under  the  greenwood  tree." 
The  sensibility  and  even  pensiveness  of  her  demeanour  in 
the  first  instance  render  her  archness  and  gayety  after- 
wards more  graceful  and  more  fascinating. 

Though  Rosalind  is  a  princess,  she  is  a  princess  of 
Arcady ;  and  notwithstanding  the  charming  effect  pro- 
duced by  her  first  scenes,  we  scarcely  ever  think  of  her 
with  a  reference  to  them,  or  associate  her  with  a  court, 
and  the  artificial  appendages  of  her  rank. 

Everything  about  Rosalind  breathes  of  '*  youth  and 
youth's  sweet  prime."  She  is  fresh  as  the  morning,  sweet 
as  the  dew-awakened  blossoms,  and  light  as  the  breeze 
that  plays  among  them.  She  is  as  witty,  as  voluble,  as 
sprightly  as  Beatrice;  but  in  a  style  altogether  distinct. 
In  both,  the  wit  is  equally  unconscious  ;  but  in  Beatrice  it 
plays  about  us  like  the  lightning,  dazzling  but  also  alarm- 
ing; w^hile  the  wit  of  Rosalind  bubbles  up  and  sparkles 
like  the  living  fountain,  refreshing  all  around.  Her  volu- 
bility is  like  the  bird's  song ;  it  is  the  outpouring  of  a  heart 
filled  to  overflowing  with  life,  love,  and  joy,  and  all  sweet 
and  affectionate  impulses.  She  has  as  much  tenderness 
as  mirth,  and  in  her  most  petulant  raillery  there  is  a  touch 
of  softness — ''  By  this  hand,  it  will  not  hurt  a  fly !  " 

Mrs.  Jameson  :  Characteristics  of  Women. 

III. 

Rosalind  in  Doublet  and  Hose. 

Rosalind's  wit  is  gaiety  without  a  sting;  the  gleam  in 
it  is  of  "  that  sweet  radiance  "  which  Oehlenschlager  at- 

14 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Comments 

tributed  to  Freia ;  her  sportive  nature  masks  the  depth  of 
her  love.  Beatrice  can  be  brought  to  love  because  she 
is  a  woman,  and  stands  in  no  respect  apart  from  her  sex ; 
but  she  is  not  of  an  amatory  nature.  Rosalind  is  seized 
with  a  passion  for  Orlando  the  instant  she  sets  eyes  on 
him.  From  the  moment  of  Beatrice's  first  appearance 
she  is  defiant  and  combative,  in  the  highest  of  spirits. 
We  are  introduced  to  Rosalind  as  a  poor  bird  with  a 
drooping  wing ;  her  father  is  banished,  she  is  bereft  of  her 
birthright,  and  is  living  on  sufferance  as  companion  to 
the  usurper's  daughter,  being,  indeed,  half  a  prisoner  in 
the  palace,  where  till  lately  she  reigned  as  princess.  It 
is  not  until  she  has  donned  the  doublet  and  hose,  appears 
in  the  likeness  of  a  page,  and  wanders  at  her  own  sweet 
will  in  the  open  air  and  the  greenwood,  that  she  recovers 
her  radiant  humour,  and  roguish  merriment  flows  from 
her  lips  like  the  trilling  of  a  bird. 

Nor  is  the  man  she  loves,  like  Benedick,  an  overween- 
ing gallant  with  a  sharp  tongue  and  an  unabashed  bear- 
ing. This  youth,  though  brave  as  a  hero  and  strong  as 
an  athlete,  is  a  child  in  inexperience,  and  so  bashful  in 
the  presence  of  the  woman  who  instantly  captivates  him, 
that  it  is  she  who  is  the  first  to  betray  her  sympathy  for 
him,  and  has  even  to  take  the  chain  from  her  own  neck 
and  hang  it  around  his  before  he  can  so  much  as  muster 
up  courage  to  hope  for  her  love.  So,  too,  we  find  him 
passing  his  time  in  hanging  poems  to  her  upon  the  trees, 
and  carving  the  name  of  Rosalind  in  their  bark.  vShe 
amuses  herself,  in  her  page's  attire,  by  making  herself 
his  confidant,  and  pretending,  as  it  were  in  jest,  to  be  his 
Rosalind.  She  cannot  bring  herself  to  confess  her  pas- 
sion, although  she  can  think  and  talk  (to  Celia)  of  no 
one  but  him,  and  although  his  delay  of  a  few  minutes 
in  keeping  tryst  with  her  sets  her  beside  herself  with  im- 
patience. She  is  as  sensitive  as  she  is  intelligent,  in  this 
differing  from  Portia,  to  whom,  in  other  respects,  she 
bears  some  resemblance,  though  she  lacks  her  persuasive 
eloquence,  and  is,  on  the  whole,  more  tender,  more  vir- 

15 


Comments  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

ginal.  She  faints  when  OHver,  to  excuse  Orlando's  de- 
lay, brings  her  a  handkerchief  stained  with  his  blood; 
yet  has  sufficient  self-mastery  to  say  with  a  smile  the  mo- 
ment she  recovers,  "  I  pray  you  tell  your  brother  how 
well  I  counterfeited."  She  is  quite  at  her  ease  in  her 
male  attire,  like  Viola  and  Imogen  after  her.  The  fact 
that  female  parts  were  played  by  youths  had,  of  course, 
something  to  do  with  the  frequency  of  these  disguises. 
Brandes  :   lVillia]ii  Shakespeare. 

IV. 

Jaques. 

Jaques  characterizes  the  use  of  the  word  '^  melancholy  " 
as  applied  to  himself,  when  he  says :  "  It  is  a  melan- 
choly of  mine  own,  compounded  of  many  simples,  ex- 
tracted from  many  objects,  and,  indeed,  the  sundry  con- 
templation of  my  travels,  in  which  my  often  rumination 
wraps  me  in  a  most  humorous  sadness."  He  has  also 
gained  his  experience  at  the  expense  of  having  tried  vari- 
ous vices  of  high  life,  as  the  Duke  hints  :  "  For  thou  thy- 
self hast  been  a  libertine."  So  the  arsenic  eaters  of  the 
Styrian  Alps  take  the  natural  poison  in  small  successive 
doses  which  give  them  a  bloated  aspect  of  florid  health, 
but  they  so  affect  the  action  of  the  heart  that  it  stops 
quite  suddenly. 

The  famous  speech  beginning  with,  "  All  the  world  's 
a  stage,"  is  purely  cynical,  and  assumes  the  futility  of  the 
parts  which  the  necessity  of  living  compels  us  to  play.  It 
might  be  spoken  by  one  who  believes  that  our  little  life  is 
rounded  by  a  sleep  whose  pure  oblivion  swallows  up  our 
striving. 

When  Jaques  calls  for  more  singing,  and  is  told  that 
it  wnll  make  him  melancholy,  he  replies,  "  I  thank  it :  I 
can  suck  melancholy  out  of  a  song  as  a  weasel  sucks 
eggs."     Wq  may  infer  that  he  sucks  music  with  the  notion 

i6 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Comments 

of  the  weasel,  who  probably  regards  eggs  as  being  laid  on 
purpose  for  his  sucking.  There  is  nothing  more  ferrety 
than  your  cynic,  to  whom  all  objects  are  game  for  obser- 
vation. When  he  hears  that  Duke  Frederick,  the  usurper, 
has  restored  the  kingdom  and  "  put  on  a  religious  life," 
he  goes  to  find  him  for  the  purpose  of  critical  inspection ; 
for  "  out  of  these  convertites  there  is  much  matter  to  be 
heard  and  learned."  So  Jaques  surmising  that  every  hole 
leads  to  a  rat  does  not  leave  one  unexplored.  In  the  mat- 
ter of  music  Jaques  only  cares  for  his  sad  reverie,  not  for 
the  names  of  the  songs.  He  will  thank  nobody.  "  When 
a  man  thanks  me  heartily,  methinks  I  have  given  him  a 
penny,  and  he  renders  me  the  beggarly  thanks."  So, 
sing,  if  you  choose  to :  the  song  tracks  me  to  that  rat  be- 
hind the  arras.      .      .      . 

Jaques  reserves  his  last  and  cruelest  thrust  for  Touch- 
stone, to  whom  he  predicts  a  marriage  victualled  for  two 
months,  arid  wrangling  ever  after;  which  is  hard  on  the 
wise  fool,  who  has  taken  up  with  Audrey  as  if  to  show 
the  under  side  of  court  manners  and  the  comparative 
cheapness  of  mere  breeding.  This  ought  to  have  en- 
deared him  to  the  heart  of  the  cynic. 

Weiss:  Wit,  Humor,  and  Shakespeare. 


Jaques  died,  we  know  not  how  or  when  or  where ;  but 
he  came  to  life  again  a  century  later,  and  appeared  in  the 
world  as  an  English  clergyman.  We  need  stand  in  no 
doubt  as  to  his  character,  for  we  all  know  him  under  his 
later  name  of  Lawrence  Sterne.  Mr.  Yorick  made  a 
mistake  about  his  family  tree  ;  he  came  not  out  of  the  play 
of  Hamlet,  but  out  of  As  You  Like  It.  In  Arden  he 
wept  and  moralized  over  the  wounded  deer ;  and  at  Xam- 
port  his  tears  and  sentiment  gushed  forth  for  the  dead 
donkey.  Jaques  knows  no  bonds  that  unite  him  to  any 
living  thing.  He  lives  upon  novel,  curious,  and  delicate 
sensations.  He  seeks  the  delicious  imprevu  so  loved  and 
studiously  sought  for  by  that  perfected  French  egoist, 
Henri  Beyle.     ''  A  fool !  a  fool !  I  met  a  fool  i'  the  for- 

17 


Comments  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

est !  "—and  in  the  delight  of  coming  upon  this  exquisite 
surprise,  Jaques  laughs  like  chanticleer, 

"  Sans  intermission 
An  hour  by  his  dial." 

His  whole  life  is  unsubstantial  and  unreal,  a  curiosity  of 
dainty  mockery.  To  him  *'  all  the  world  's  a  stage,  and 
all  the  men  and  women  merely  players  "  ;  to  him  sentiment 
stands  in  place  of  passion ;  an  aesthetic,  amateurish  expe- 
rience of  various  modes  of  life  stands  in  place  of  prac- 
tical wisdom,  and  words  in  place  of  deeds. 

"  He  fatigues  me,"  wrote  our  earnest  and  sensitive 
Thackeray  of  the  Jaques  of  English  literature,  "  with 
his  perpetual  disquiet  and  his  uneasy  appeals  to  my  risible 
or  sentimental  faculties.  He  is  always  looking  in  my 
face,  watching  his  effect,  uncertain  whether  I  think  him 
an  impostor  or  not;  posture-making,  coaxing,  and  im- 
ploring me.  '  See  what  sensibility  I  have — own  now 
that  I  'm  very  clever — do  cry  now,  you  can't  resist  this.'  " 
Yes ;  for  Jaques  was  at  his  best  in  the  Forest  of  Arden, 
and  was  a  little  spoiled  by  preaching  weekly  sermons,  and 
by  writing  so  long  a  caprice  as  his  "  Tristram  Shandy." 

DowDEN :  Shakspere, 


Morbid  Humour  of  Jaques. 

The  whole  character  of  Jaques  is  one  not  easy  to  define, 
and  one  which  leaves  the  most  strangely  opposite  impres- 
sions upon  different  readers.  He  is  a  general  favourite 
with  audiences  in  the  theatre.  Actors,  so  far  as  I  have 
observed,  seem  to  form  an  exalted  opinion  of  him ;  and  it 
must  be  difficult  for  them  to  do  otherwise  when  they' 
have  to  speak  in  his  character  the  most  famous  of  quota- 
tions that  compares  all  the  world  to  a  stage.  On  the  other 
hand,  Jaques  is  certainly  not  a  favourite  with  the  person- 
ages in  the  story :  he  is  least  liked  by  the  best  of  them, 

i8 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Comments 

and  the  poet  himself  takes  pains  to  except  him  from  the 
happy  ending  which  crowns  the  careers  of  the  rest.  The 
epithet  '  philosophical  '  has  stuck  to  Jaques,  and  there  is 
good  reason  for  it.  We  find  him  everywhere  showing, 
not  only  seriousness  of  bent,  but  also  that  deep  eye  to  the 
lessons  of  life  underlying  the  outward  appearances  of 
things  which  is  traditionally  associated  with  wisdom.  Yet 
in  the  scenes  of  the  play  his  seriousness  is  not  treated 
with  much  respect,  and  his  wisdom  by  no  means  gives 
him  the  victory  when  he  has  to  encounter  much  more 
unpretentious  personages.  Interpretation  must  find  some 
view  of  him  which  will  be  consistent  with  all  this  ;  and  we 
get  a  hint  as  to  the  direction  in  which  we  are  to  look  for 
such  a  view  in  the  play  itself,  where  the  Duke,  in  answer 
to  Jaques'  longing  for  the  Fool's  licence  of  universal 
satire,  says  that  by  such  satire  he  would  do — 

Most  mischievous  foul  sin,  in  chiding  sin : 

For  thou  thyself  hast  been  a  libertine, 

As  sensual  as  the  brutish  sting  itself; 

And  all  the  embossed  sores  and  headed  evils, 

That  thou  with  license  of  free  foot  hast  caught, 

Wouldst  thou  disgorge  into  the  general  world. 

The  hypothesis  which  will  make  the  whole  character  clear, 
so  far  as  it  can  be  summed  up  in  a  single  phrase,  might 
be  expressed  as  the  morbid  humour  of  melancholy. 

MouLTON  :  Shakespeare  as  a  Dramatic  Artist. 

VI. 

Frederick. 

That  Duke  Frederick  is  not  constitutionally  cruel,  is 
indicated  in  his  endeavour  to  stay  the  wrestling,  "  in  pity 
of  the  challenger's  youth,"  first  by  personal  dissuasion  of 
Orlando,  then  by  suggesting  to  the  princesses  to  use  their 
influence,  while  he  stands  considerately  aside,  and  then  by 
restricting  the  encounter  to  one  fall ;   and  thus,  tyrant  ag 

T9 


Comments  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

he  is,  he  is  in  sympathy  with  the  assembled  crowd,  who  so 
deeply  compassionate  the  bereaved  father.  Again,  he  is 
better  than  his  class  in  his  care  of  the  gasping  and  dis- 
abled prizer — "How  dost  thou,  Charles?"  and  "bear 
him  away."  Ambition  and  avarice  control  his  better 
nature,  which  regains  its  elasticity,  however,  when  he  is 
brought  under  the  genial  influences  of  a  clearer  air  and 
an  altered  scene.  Certain  it  is  that  such  a  change  has  a 
healthy  moral,  as  well  as  physical  influence;  it  is  one  of 
the  rescuing  energies  of  nature,  and  if  in  actual  nature  it 
has  not  always  the  permanent  vigour  that  is  desirable, 
and  loses  its  force  when  we  return  again  into  the  circle 
of  old  local  influences  and  associations,  the  more  delight- 
ful is  it  for  a  time  to  revel  in  a  fiction  which  exhibits  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  resources  of  nature,  operating  with 
a  vitality  that  brings  aid  to  faltering  virtue  and  corrects 
the  flaws  of  fortune,  and  turns  the  odds  of  the  great  com- 
bat of  life  to  the  side  of  the  excellent  and  the  admirable. 

In  the  meantime  the  usurper  pays  the  penalties  of  a 
falsely  assumed  position ;  his  very  lords  characterize  him 
justly  when  they  speak  in  an  undertone,  and  warn  away 
from  the  range  of  his  passion  those  whom  he  is  fitfully 
incensed  against.  His  very  daughter  disowns  the  ill- 
bought  advancement  he  would  provide  for  her,  and  slips 
from  his  side  to  accompany  in  peril  and  privation  a  victim 
of  his  jealousy.  Thus  in  every  form  of  loyalty,  compas- 
sion, duty,  and  aflfection,  whether  spirited,  tender,  senti- 
mental, or  grotesque,  the  better  spirits  fly  by  natural  at- 
traction to  a  more  congenial  centre,  and  in  all  happy  com- 
panionship. 

Lloyd  :  Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare. 

VII. 

Phebe. 

Phebe  is  quite  an  Arcadian  coquette;  she  is  a  piece  of 
pastoral  poetry.     Audrey  is  only  rustic.     A  very  amusing 

20 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Comments 

effect  is  produced  by  the  contrast  between  the  frank  and 
free  bearing  of  the  two  princesses  in  disguise,  and  the 
scornful  airs  of  the  real  shepherdess.  In  the  speeches  of 
Phebe,  and  in  the  dialogue  between  her  and  Sylvius, 
Shakspeare  has  anticipated  all  the  beauties  of  the  Italian 
pastoral,  and  surpassed  Tasso  and  Guarini.  We  find  two 
among  the  most  poetical  passages  of  the  play  appropri- 
ated to  Phebe :  the  taunting  speech  to  Sylvius,  and  the  de- 
scription of  Rosalind  in  her  page's  costume — which  last 
is  finer  than  the  portrait  of  Bathyllus  in  Anacreon. 

Mrs.  Jameson  :  Characteristics  of  Women. 


The  dissatisfied  may  solace  themselves  with  the  coquet- 
tishness  of  Phebe,  and  take  note  at  the  same  time  of  the 
course  and  the  end  of  it.  Phebe,  in  her  pride  or  indiffer- 
ence, groups  with  the  old  inhospitable  carlot  of  whom  we 
catch  a  glimpse,  the  moral  anti-types  of  the  glistening  ser- 
pent and  the  hungering  beast  of  prey.  These  are  the 
tyrants  of  the  woodland,  as  Duke  Frederick  of  the  court. 
The  old  carlot  vanishes,  but  Phebe,  like  Frederick  and 
like  Oliver,  is  reclaimed  by  the  touch  of  natural  affection, 
by  that  knowing  "  what  'tis  to  pity  and  be  pitied,"  that 
enforcement  of  gentleness,  that  is  indicated  over  and  over 
again  throughout  the  play,  as  the  germ  and  promise  of 
recovered  humanity,  the  purifier  no  less  of  the  vices  and 
vile  passions  than  of  the  foibles  of  the  heart. 

Lloyd  :  Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare. 

VIII. 

Touchstone. 

Touchstone,  though  he  nowhere  strikes  so  deep  a  chord 
within  us  as  the  poor  Fool  in  Lear,  is  the  most  entertain- 
ing of  Shakespeare's  privileged  characters.  Richly  in- 
deed does  his  grave  logical  nonsense  moralize  the  scenes 
wherein  he  moves.     It  is  curious  to  observe  how  the  Poet 

21 


Comments  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

takes  care  to  let  us  know  from  the  first,  that  beneath  the 
affectations  of  his  calhng  some  precious  sentiments  have 
been  kept  aHve ;  that  far  within  the  fool  there  is  laid  up  a 
secret  reserve  of  the  man,  ready  to  leap  forth  and  combine 
with  better  influences  as  soon  as  the  incrustations  of  art 
are  thawed  and  broken  up.  Used  to  a  Ufe  cut  off  from 
human  sympathies ;  stripped  of  the  common  responsibili- 
ties of  the  social  state;  living  for  no  end  but  to  make 
aristocratic  idlers  laugh;  one,  therefore,  whom  nobody 
respects  enough  to  resent  or  be  angry  at  anything  he  says  ; 
— of  course  his  habit  is  to  speak  all  for  effect,  nothing  for 
truth :  instead  of  yielding  or  being  passive  to  the  natural 
force  and  virtue  of  things,  his  vocation  is  to  wrest  and 
transshape  them  out  of  their  true  scope.  Thus  a  strange 
wilfulness  and  whimsicality  has  wTought  itself  into  the 
substance  of  his  mind.  Yet  his  nature  is  not  so  *'  sub- 
dued to  what  it  works  in,"  but  that,  amidst  the  scenes  and 
inspirations  of  the  forest,  the  fool  quickly  slides  into  the 
man ;  the  supervenings  of  the  place  so  running  into  and 
athwart  what  he  brings  with  him,  that  his  character  comes 
to  be  as  dappled  and  motley  as  his  dress.  Even  in  the 
new  passion  which  here  takes  him  there  is  a  touch  of  his 
old  wilfulness :  when  he  falls  in  love,  as  he  really  does, 
nothing  seems  to  inspire  and  draw  him  more  than  the 
unloveliness  of  the  object;  thus  approving  that  even  so 
much  of  nature  as  survives  in  him  is  not  content  to  run  in 
natural  channels. 

Hudson  :  The  Works  of  Shakespeare, 

IX. 

Celia. 

CeHa  .  .  .  rather  yields  to  Rosalind,  than  is 
eclipsed  by  her.  She  is  as  full  of  sweetness,  kindness,  and 
intelligence,  quite  as  susceptible,  and  almost  as  witty, 
though  she  makes  less  display  of  wit.  She  is  described 
as  less  fair  and  less  gifted;  yet  the  attempt  to  excite  in 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Comments 

her  mind  a  jealousy  of  her  lovelier  friend,  by  placing 
them  in  comparison — 

Thou  art  a  fool ;  she  robs  thee  of  thy  name  ; 

And  thou  wilt  show  more  bright,  and  seem  more  virtuous, 

When  she  is  gone — 

fails  to  awaken  in  the  generous  heart  of  Celia  any  other 
feeling  than  an  increased  tenderness  and  sympathy  for  her 
cousin.  To  Celia,  Shakespeare  has  given  some  of  the 
most  striking  and  animated  parts  of  the  dialogue ;  and  in 
particular,  that  exquisite  description  of  the  friendship  be- 
tween her  and  Rosalind — 

If  she  be  a  traitor, 
Why,  so  am  I ;  we  have  still  slept  together. 
Rose  at  an  instant,  learned,  played,  eat  together, 
And  wheresoe'er  we  went,  like  Juno's  swans, 
Still  we  were  coupled  and  inseparable. 

The  feeling  of  interest  and  admiration  thus  excited  for 

Celia  at  the  first,  follows  her  through  the  whole  play.     We 

listen  to  her  as  to  one  who  has  made  herself  worthy  of 

our  love;  and  her  silence  expresses  more  than  eloquence. 

Mrs.  Jameson  :    Characteristics  of  Women. 

X. 

Orlando. 

Orlando  is  the  nearest  approach  in  Shakespeare  to  the 
fresh  young  knight  of  chivalry,  or  to  such  a  figure  as 
Chaucer's  Squier,  steeped  in  the  romance  of  the  woods 
and  of  love.  He  has  lost  both  the  rustic  simplicity  of 
Rosader  and  his  rustic  violence.  He  neither  loses  his 
senses  under  the  spell  of  Rosalind's  beauty,  nor  brings  a 
posse  of  roysterers  to  batter  his  brother's  door.  His 'char- 
acter, like  his  name,  is  caught  from  the  traditions  of  a 
high-bred  and  courtly  valour,  heightened  by  the  peculiarly 
Shakespearean  trait  that  it  springs  rather  from  race  than 
from  training,  for  his  brother  has  neglected  their  father's 

2Z 


Comments  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

charge — to  bring  him  up  in  '  all  gentleman-like  qualities.' 
His  father's  spirit  triumphs  over  his  '  peasant '  training, 
as  it  does  in  Arviragus  and  Guiderius  and  Perdita,  though 
the  psychological  subtlety  shown  in  tracing  the  conflict  of 
birth  and  breeding  in  The  Winter's  Tale  is  wholly  want- 
ing in  the  earlier  creation.  In  keeping  with  the  fine  cor- 
fesia  communicated  to  the  figure  of  Orlando,  the  whole 
plot  has  been  lifted  into  a  blither  atmosphere.  Tragic 
harms  still  loom  on  the  horizon,  but  they  rouse  no  fore- 
boding, and  approach  only  to  disperse.  Their  contrivers, 
Oliver  and  Frederick,  are  from  the  first  less  grave  offend- 
ers than  their  prototypes,  and  they  repent  on  yet  slighter 
provocation.  Even  Charles  the  wrestler  is  stunned,  not 
slain. 

Herford:  The  Eversley  Shakespeare. 


XI. 

The  Forest  of  Arden. 

The  Forest  of  Arden  is  their  stage,  and  with  its  fresh 
and  free  atmosphere,  its  mysterious  chiaroscuro,  its 
idylic  scenery  for  huntsmen  and  shepherds,  is,  at  the  same 
time,  the  fitting  scene  for  the  realisation  of  a  mode  and 
conception  of  life  such  as  is  here  described.  It  is  a  life 
such  as  not  only  must  please  the  dramatic  personages 
themselves,  but  would  please  every  one,  were  such  a  life 
only  possible ;  it  is  the  poetical  reflex  of  a  life  as  yon  like 
it,  light  and  smooth  in  its  flow,  unencumbered  by  serious 
tasks,  free  from  the  fetters  of  definite  objects,  and  from 
intentions  difficult  to  reafise ;  an  amusing  play  of  caprice, 
of  imagination,  and  of  wavering  sensations  and  feelings. 
A  life  like  this,  however,  is  possible  only  in  the  Forest  of 
Arden,  in  the  midst  of  similar  scenery,  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances and  conditions,  and  with  similar  companions 
and  surroundings.  At  court,  in  more  complicated  rela- 
tions, in  a  state  of  impure  feelings  and  selfish  endeavours, 

24 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Comments 

it  would  lose  its  poetical  halo,  its  innocence  and  gaiety 
and  become  untruth,  hypocrisy,  injustice  and  violence,  as 
fs  proved  by  the  reigning  Duke,  his  courtiers  and  Oliver 

®     °^^'  Ui^ma:  Shakspeare's  Dramatic  Art. 

Shakspere,  when  he  wrote  this  idyllic  play,  was  himself 
in  his  Forest  of  Arden.     He  had  ended  one  great  am- 
bition-the  historical  plays-and  not  yet  commenced  his 
tragedies.     It  was  a  resting-place.     He  sends  his  iraagi- 
natin  into  the  woods  to  find  repose.     Instead  of  he  court 
and  camps  of  England, and  the  embattled  plains  of  France, 
Tere  was  this  wSodland  scene,  where  the  palm-tree,  the 
lioness,  and  the  serpent  are  to  be  found   possessed  of  a 
flora  and  a  fauna  that  flourish  in  spite  of  physical  geog- 
raphers.    There  is  an  open-air  feeling  throughout  the 
pUy.     The  dialogue,  as  has  been  observed   catches  free- 
dom and  f reshnels  from  the  atmosphere.        Never  is    he 
scene  within-doors,  except  when  something  discordant  is 
introduced  to  heighten  as  it  xyere  the  harmony        After 
the  trumpet-tones  of  Henry  V.  comes  the  sweet  pastoral 
strain    so  bright,  so  tender.     Must  it  not  all  be  in  keep- 
ing Shakspere  was  not  trying  to  control  his  melancholy, 
wlien  he  needed  to  do  that,  Shakspere  confronted  hi 
melancholy  very  passionately,  and  looked  it  full  m  the 
See      Here  he  needed  refreshment,  a  sunlight  tempered 
by  forest-boughs,  a  breeze  upon  his  forehead,  a  stream 
murmuring  in  his  ears.  ^^^^^^^  ^  Shakspere. 

XII. 

Various  Points  of  View. 

The  poet,  in  conceiving  this  fine  work  first  generated 
a  lofty  ideal.  His  aim  was  to  set  forth  the  power  of  pa- 
tience as  the  panacea  for  earth's  ills  and  the  injustice  of 

2S 


Comments  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

fortune,  and  self-command  as  the  condition  without  which 
the  power  would  be  inoperative.  Neither  this  power  nor 
its  condition  can  be  easily  illustrated  in  the  life  of  courts ; 
but  the  sylvan  life  such  as  the  banished  Duke  and  his  com- 
panions live  in  Arden,  is  favourable  to  both.  In  the  con- 
trast between  the  two  states  of  life  lies  the  charm  of  the 
play,  and  the  reconciliation  of  these  formal  opposites  is 
the  fulfilment  of  its  ideal. 

Heraud  :  Shakspere,  His  Inner  Life  as  Intimated  in  his 
Works, 


The  sweet  and  sportive  temper  of  Shakspeare,  though 
it  never  deserted  him,  gave  way  to  advancing  years,  and 
to  the  mastering  force  of  serious  thought.  What  he  read 
we  know  but  very  imperfectly ;  yet,  in  the  last  years  of 
this  century,  when  five  and  thirty  summers  had  ripened 
his  genius,  it  seems  that  he  must  have  transfused  much 
of  the  wisdom  of  past  ages  into  his  own  all-combining 
mind.  In  several  of  the  historical  plays,  in  The  Mer- 
chant of  Venice,  and  especially  in  As  You  Like  It,  the 
philosophic  eye,  turned  inward  on  the  mysteries  of  human 
nature,  is  more  and  more  characteristic;  and  we  might 
apply  to  the  last  comedy  the  bold  figure  that  Coleridge  has 
less  appropriately  employed  as  to  the  early  poems,  that 
"  the  creative  power  and  the  intellectual  energy  wrestle 
as  in  a  war-embrace."  In  no  other  play,  at  least,  do  we 
find  the  bright  imagination  and  fascinating  grace  of  Shak- 
speare's  youth  so  mingled  with  the  thoughtfulness  of  his 
maturer  age. 

Few  comedies  of  Shakspeare  are  more  generally  pleas- 
ing, and  its  manifold  improbabilities  do  not  much  affect 
us  in  perusal.  The  brave,  injured  Orlando,  the  sprightly 
but  modest  Rosalind,  the  faithful  Adam,  the  reflecting 
Jaques,  the  serene  and  magnanimous  Duke,  interest  us 
by  turns,  though  the  play  is  not  so  well  managed  as  to 
condense  our  sympathy,  and  direct  it  to  the  conclusion. 

Hallam  :  Introduction  to  the  Literature  of  Europe. 

26 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Comments 

The  woodland  world  of  Arden,  In  which  sonnets  are 
affixed  to  ancient  trees,  and  lovers,  courtiers,  and  moral- 
ists live  at  ease,  has  much  in  common  with  the  pastoral 
backgrounds  of  Spenser  and  Lodge ;  but  its  artificiality  is 
redeemed  by  its  freshness  of  spirit,  its  out-of-door  free- 
dom, and  its  enchanting  society.  Rosalind  and  Orlando 
are  the  successors  of  a  long  line  of  pastoral  lovers,  but 
they,  alone  among  their  kind,  really  live.  In  Rosalind 
purity,  passion,  and  freedom  are  harmonized  in  one  of 
the  most  enchanting  women  in  literature.  In  her  speech 
love  finds  a  new  language,  which  is  continually  saved 
from  extravagance  by  its  vivacity  and  humour.  In  Au- 
drey and  Corin  the  passion  of  Orlando  and  Rosalind  is 
gently  parodied ;  in  Touchstone  the  melancholy  humour 
of  Jaques  is  set  out  in  more  effective  relief.  There  are 
threatenings  of  tragedy  in  the  beginning  of  the  play,  but 
they  are  dissolved  in  an  air  in  which  purity  and  truth  and 
health  serve  to  resolve  the  baser  designs  of  men  into 
harmless  fantasies. 
Mabie  :  William  Shakespeare  :  Poet,  Dramatist,  and  Man. 


27 


As  You  LiKe  It. 


DRAMATIS   PERSONAE. 

Duke,  living  in  banishment. 

Frederick,  his  brother,  and  usurper  of  his  dominions. 

Amiens,  ) 

Taoues      r  ^^^^-^  attending  on  the  banished  Duke. 

Le  Beau,  a  courtier  attending  upon  Frederick. 

Charles,  wrestler  to  Frederick. 

Oliver,      \ 

Jaques,      >-  sons  of  Sir  Rowland  de  Boys. 

Orlando,  ) 

Adam,     ") 

Dennis,  /  •'^^^^^^^•^  ^^  ^^''''''' 

Touchstone,  a  clown. 

Sir  Oliver  AIartext,  a  vicar. 

CORIN, 


„  >  sJicp herds. 

SiLVIUS,     \ 


William,  a  country  fellozv,  in  love  with  Audrey. 
A  person  representing  Hymen. 

Rosalind,  daughter  to  the  banished  Duke. 
Celia,  daughter  to  Frederick. 
Phebe,  a  shepherdess. 
Audrey,  a  country  wench. 

Lords,  pages,  and  attendants,  etc. 

Scene:    Oliver's  house;  Duke  Frederick's  court;  and  the  Forest 
of  Arden. 


30 


As  You  LiKe  It. 

ACT  FIRST. 

Scene  I. 

Orchard  of  Oliver's  house. 

Enter  Orlando  and  Adam. 

Or  I.  As  I  remember,  Adam,  it  was  upon  this  fashion : 
bequeathed  me  by  will  but  poor  a  thousand 
crowns,  and,  as  thou  sayest,  charged  my  brother, 
on  his  blessing,  to  breed  me  well:  and  there 
begins  my  sadness.  IMy  brother  Jaques  he 
keeps  at  school,  and  report  speaks  goldenly  of 
his  profit :  for  my  part,  he  keeps  me  rustically  at 
home,  or,  to  speak  more  properly,  stays  me  here 
at  home  unkept ;  for  call  you  that  keeping  for  a 
gentleman  of  my  birth,  that  differs  not  from  the  lo 
stalling  of  an  ox?  His  horses  are  bred  better; 
for,  besides  that  they  are  fair  with  their  feeding, 
they  are  taught  their  manage,  and  to  that  end 
riders  dearly  hired:  but  I,  his  brother,  gain 
nothing  under  him  but  growth ;  for  the  which 
his  animals  on  his  dunghills  are  as  much  bound 
to  him  as  I.  Besides  this  nothing  that  he  so 
plentifully  gives  me,  the  something  that  nature 
gave  me  his  countenance  seems  to  take  from  me : 
he  lets  me  feed  with  his  hinds,  bars  me  the  place  20 
of  a  brother,  and,  as  much  as  in  him  lies,  mines 

31 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

my  gentility  with  my  education.  This  is  it, 
Adam,  that  grieves  me ;  and  the  spirit  of  my 
father,  which  I  think  is  within  me,  begins  to 
mutiny  against  this  servitude :  I  will  no  longer 
endure  it,  though  yet  I  know  no  wise  remedy 
how  to  avoid  it. 

Adam.  Yonder  comes  my  master,  your  brother. 

Orl.  Go  apart,  Adam,  and  thou  shalt  hear  how  he 

will  shake  me  up.  30 

Enter  Oliver. 

OH.  Now,  sir!  what  make  you  here ? 

Orl.  Nothing :   I  am  not  taught  to  make  any  thing. 

OH.  What  mar  you  then,  sir? 

Orl.  Marry,  sir,  I  am  helping  you  to  mar  that  which 
God  made,  a  poor  unworthy  brother  of  yours, 
with  idleness. 

OH.  Marry,  sir,  be  better  employed,  and  be  naught 
awhile. 

Orl.  Shall   I   keep   your  hogs   and   eat   husks   with 

them?     What   prodigal   portion   have   I    spent,     40 
that  I  should  come  to  such  penury  ? 

OH.  Know  you  where  you  are,  sir? 

Orl.  O,  sir,  very  well ;   here  in  your  orchard. 

OH.  Know  you  before  whom,  sir? 

Orl.  Ay,  better  than  him  I  am  before  knows  me. 
I  know  you  are  my  eldest  brother;  and,  in 
the  gentle  condition  of  blood,  you  should  so 
know  me.  The  courtesy  of  nations  allows  you 
my  better,  in  that  you  are  the  first-born  ;  but  the 
same  tradition  takes  not  away  my  blood,  were  50 
there  twenty  brothers  betwixt  us:  I  have  as 
32 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

much  of  my  father  in  me  as  you ;  albeit,  I  con- 
fess, your  coming  before  me  is  nearer  to  his  rev- 
erence. 

OH.   \Miat,  boy! 

Orl.   Come,  come,  elder  brother,  you  are  too  young 
in  this. 

OH.  Wilt  thou  lay  hands  on  me,  villain? 

Oj'L  I  am  no  villain ;  I  am  the  youngest  son  of  Sir 
Rowland  de  Boys ;  he  was  my  father,  and  he 
is  thrice  a  villain  that  says  such  a  father  begot  60 
villains.  Wert  thou  not  my  brother,  I  would  not 
take  this  hand  from  thy  throat  till  this  other  had 
pulled  out  thy  tongue  for  saying  so :  thou  hast 
railed  on  thyself. 

Adam.  Sweet  masters,  be  patient :    for  your  father's 
remembrance,  be  at  accord. 

OIL  Let  me  go,  I  say. 

Orl.  I  will  not,  till  I  please  :  you  shall  hear  me.  My 
father  charged  you  in  his  will  to  give  me  good 
education :  you  have  trained  me  like  a  peasant,  70 
obscuring  and  hiding  from  me  all  gentleman- 
like qualities.  The  spirit  of  my  father  grows 
strong  in  me,  and  I  will  no  longer  endure  it : 
therefore  allow  me  such  exercises  as  may  become 
a  gentleman,  or  give  me  the  poor  allottery  my 
father  left  me  by  testament ;  with  that  I  will  go 
buy  my  fortunes. 

OH.  And   what   wilt   thou   do?    beg,   when   that   is 
spent  ?     Well,  sir,  get  you  in :    I  will  not  long 
be  troubled  with  you  ;   you  shall  have  some  part     80 
of  your  will :    I  pray  you,  leave  me. 

Orl.  I  will  no  further  offend  you  than  becomes  me 
for  my  good. 

33 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

OH.  Get  YOU  with  him,  you  old  dog. 

Adam.  Is  *  old  dog  '  my  reward  ?  Most  true,  I  have 
lost  my  teeth  in  your  service.  God  be  with  my 
old  master!  he  would  not  have  spoke  such  a 
word.  [Exeunt  Orlando  and  Adam. 

Oil.  Is  it  even  so?   begin  you  to  grow  upon  me?     I 

will  physic  your  rankness,  and  yet  give  no  thou-     90 
'  sand  crowns  neither.     Holla,  Dennis ! 

Enter  Dennis. 

Den.  Calls  your  worship? 

Oli.  Was  not  Charles,  the  Duke's  wrestler,  here  to 
speak  with  me? 

Den.  So  please  you,  he  is  here  at  the  door  and  im- 
portunes access  to  you. 

Oli.  Call  him  in.  [Exit  Dennis.^  'Twill  be  a  good 
way ;  and  to-morrow  the  wrestling  is. 

Enter  Charles. 

Cha.  Good  morrow  to  your  worship. 

Oli.  Good  Monsieur  Charles,  what 's  the  new  news   100 
at  the  new  court? 

Cha.  There  's  no  news  at  the  court,  sir,  but  the  old 
news :  that  is,  the  old  Duke  is  banished  by  his 
younger  brother  the  new  Duke ;  and  three  or 
four  loving  lords  have  put  themselves  into  vol- 
untary exile  with  him,  whose  lands  and  revenues 
enrich  the  new  Duke;  therefore  he  gives  them 
good  leave  to  wander. 

Oli.  Can  you  tell  if  Rosalind,  the  Duke's  daughter, 

be  banished  with  her  father?  no 

Cha.  O,  no;    for  the  Duke's  daughter,  her  cousin, 

34 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

so  loves  her,  being  ever  from  their  cradles  bred 
together,  that  she  would  have  followed  her  exile, 
or  have  died  to  stay  behind  her.  She  is  at  the 
court,  and  no  less  beloved  of  her  uncle  than  his 
own  daughter;  and  never  two  ladies  loved  as 
they  do. 

OH.  Where  will  the  old  Duke  live? 

Cha.  They  say  he  is  already  in  the  forest  of  Arden, 

and  a  many  merry  men  with  him;    and  there  120 
they  live  like  the  old  Robin  Hood  of  England: 
they  say  many  young  gentlemen  flock  to  him 
every  day,  and  fleet  the  time  carelessly,  as  they 
did  in  the  golden  world. 

OIL  What,  you  wrestle  to-morrow  before  the  new 
Duke? 

Cha.  Marry,  do  I,  sir ;  and  I  came  to  acquaint  you 
with  a  matter.  I  am  given,  sir,  secretly  to  un- 
derstand that  your  younger  brother,  Orlando, 
hath  a  disposition  to  come  in  disguised  against  130 
me  to  try  a  fall.  To-morrow,  sir,  I  wrestle  for 
my  credit ;  and  he  that  escapes  me  without  some 
broken  limb  shall  acquit  him  well.  Your  brother 
is  but  young  and  tender ;  and,  for  your  love, 
I  would  be  loath  to  foil  him,  as  I  must,  for  my 
own  honour,  if  he  come  in :  therefore,  out  of  my 
love  to  you,  I  came  hither  to  acquaint  you  with- 
al ;  that  either  you  -might  stay  him  from  his  in- 
tendment, or  brook  such  disgrace  well  as  he 
shall  run  into;  in  that  it  is  a  thing  of  his  own  140 
search,  and  altogether  against  my  will. 
OH.  Charles,  I  thank  thee  for  thy  love  to  me,  which 
thou  shalt  find  I  will  most  kindly  requite.     I 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

had  myself  notice  of  my  brother's  purpose 
herein,  and  have  by  underhand  means  laboured 
to  dissuade  him  from  it,  but  he  is  resolute.  I  '11 
tell  thee,  Charles : — it  is  the  stubbornest  young 
fellow  of  France ;  full  of  ambition,  an  envious 
emulator  of  every  man's  good  parts,  a  secret  and 
villanous  contriver  against  me  his  natural  bfoth-  150 
er :  therefore  use  thy  discretion ;  I  had  as  lief 
thou  didst  break  his  neck  as  his  finger.  And 
thou  wert  best  look  to  't ;  for  if  thou  dost  him 
any  slight  disgrace,  or  if  he  do  not  mightily 
grace  himself  on  thee,  he  will  practise  against 
thee  by  poison,  entrap  thee  by  some  treacherous 
device,  and  never  leave  thee  till  he  hath  ta'en 
thy  life  by  some  indirect  means  or  other ;  for,  I 
assure  thee,  and  almost  with  tears  I  speak  it, 
there  is  not  one  so  young  and  so  villanous  this  160 
day  living.  I  speak  but  brotherly  of  him ;  but 
should  I  anatomize  him  to  thee  as  he  is,  I  must 
blush  and  weep,  and  thou  must  look  pale  and 
wonder. 

Cha.  I  am  heartily  glad  I  came  hither  to  you.  If  he 
come  to-morrow,  I  '11  give  him  his  payment :  if 
ever  he  go  alone  again,  I  '11  never  wrestle  for 
prize  more :   and  so,  God  keep  your  worship ! 

OIL  Farewell,  good  Charles.  [Exit  Charles.]  Now 
will  I  stir  this  gamester :  I  hope  I  shall  see  an 
end  of  him;  for  my  soul,  yet  I  know  not  why,  170 
hates  nothing  more  than  he.  Yet  he  's  gentle ; 
never  schooled,  and  yet  learned ;  full  of  noble 
device ;  of  all  sorts  enchantingly  beloved ;  and 
indeed  so  much  in  the  heart  of  the  world,  and 
especially  of  my  own  people,  who  best  know 
26 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

him,  that  I  am  altogether  misprised :  but  it  shall 
not  be  so  long;  this  wrestler  shall  clear  all: 
nothing  remains  but  that  I  kindle  the  boy 
thither  ;   which  now  I  '11  go  about.  [Exit. 

Scene  II. 

Lawn  before  the  Duke's  palace. 
Enter  Rosalind  and  Celia. 

Cel.  I  pray  thee,  Rosalind,  sweet  my  coz,  be  merry. 

Ros.  Dear  Celia,  I  show  more  mirth  than  I  am  mis- 
tress of;  and  would  you  yet  I  were  merrier? 
Unless  you  could  teach  me  to  forget  a  banished 
father,  you  must  not  learn  me  how  to  remember 
any  extraordinary  pleasure. 

Ccl.  Herein  I  see  thou  lovest  me  not  with  the  full 
weight  that  I  love  thee.  If  my  uncle,  thy  ban- 
ished father,  had  banished  thy  uncle,  the  Duke 
my  father,  so  thou  hadst  been  still  with  me,  I  lo 
could  have  taught  my  love  to  take  thy  father  for 
mine :  so  wouldst  thou,  if  the  truth  of  thy  love 
to  me  were  so  righteously  tempered  as  mine  is 
to  thee. 

Ros.  Well,  I  will  forget  the  condition  of  my  estate, 
to  rejoice  in  yours. 

Ccl.  You  know  my  father  hath  no  child  but  I,  nor 
none  is  like  to  have:  and,  truly,  when  he  dies, 
thou  shalt  be  his  heir;  for  what  he  hath  taken 
away  from  thy  father  perforce,  I  will  render  thee  20 
again  in  affection ;  by  mine  honour,  I  will ;  and 
when  I  break  that  oath,  let  me  turn  monster: 

Z7 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

therefore,   my   sweet   Rose,   my   dear  Rose,   be 

merry. 
Ros.  From  henceforth  I  will,  coz,  and  devise  sports. 

Let  me  see;   what  think  you  of  falling  in  love? 
Cel.  Marry,  I  prithee,  do,  to  make  sport  withal :   but 

love  no  man  in  good  earnest ;   nor  no  further  in 

sport  neither,  than  with  safety  of  a  pure  blush 

thou  mayst  in  honour  come  off  again.  30 

Ros:  What  shall  be  our  sport,  then  ? 
Cel.  Let  us  sit  and  mock  the  good  housewife  Fortune 

from  her  wheel,  that  her  gifts  may  henceforth  be 

bestowed  equally. 
Ros.  I  would  we  could  do  so ;    for  her  benefits  are 

mightily    misplaced ;     and    the    bountiful    blind 

woman  doth  most  mistake  in  her  gifts  to  women. 
CeL  'Tis  true;    for  those  that  she  makes   fair  she 

scarce  makes  honest;   and  those  that  she  makes 

honest  she  makes  very  ill-favouredly.  40 

Ros,  Nay,  now  thou  goest  from  Fortune's  ofhce  to 

Nature's :    Fortune  reigns  in  gifts  of  the  world, 

not  in  the  lineaments  of  Nature. 

Enter  Touchstone. 

Cel.  No?  when  Nature  hath  made  a  fair  creature, 
may  she  not  by  Fortune  fall  into  the  fire? 
Though  Nature  hath  given  us  wit  to  flout  at 
Fortune,  hath  not  Fortune  sent  in  this  fool  to 
cut  off  the  argument  ? 

Ros.  Indeed,  there  is  Fortune  too  hard  for  Nature, 

when  Fortune  makes  Nature's  natural  the  cutter-     50 
off  of  Nature's  wit. 

CeL  Peradventure  this  is  not  Fortune's  work  neither, 

38 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

but  Nature's;    who  perceiveth  our  natural  wits 
too  dull  to  reason  of  such  goddesses,  and  hath 
sent  this  natural  for  our  whetstone;    for  always 
the  dulness  of  the  fool  is  the  whetstone  of  the 
wits.     How  now,  wat !   whither  wander  you  ? 
Touch.  Mistress,  you  must  come  away  to  your  father. 
Cel.  Were  you  made  the  messenger? 
Touch.  No,  by  mine  honour,  but  I  was  bid  to  come     60 

for  you. 
Ros.  Where  learned  you  that  oath,  fool? 
Touch.  Of  a  certain  knight  that  swore  by  his  honour 
they  were  good  pancakes,  and  swore  by  his  hon- 
our the  mustard  was  naught ;   now  I  '11  stand  to 
it,  the  pancakes  were  naught  and  the  mustard 
was  good,  and  yet  was  not  4;he  knight  forsworn. 
Ccl.  How  prove  you  that,  in  the  great  heap  of  your 

knowledge  ? 
Ros.  Ay,  marry,  now  unmuzzle  your  wisdom.  70 

Touch.  Stand    you    both    forth   now:     stroke    your 
chins,  and  swear  by  your  beards  that  I  am  a 
knave. 
Ccl.  By  our  beards,  if  we  had  them,  thou  art. 
Touch.  By  my  knavery,  if  I  had  it,  then  I  were ;  but 
if  you  swear  by  that  that  is  not,  you  are  not 
forsworn :    no  more  was  this  knight,  swearing 
by  his  honour,  for  he  never  had  any;    or  if  he 
had,  he  had  sworn  it  away  before  ever  he  saw 
those  pancakes  or  that  mustard. 
CeL  Prithee,  who  is  't  that  thou  meanest  ?  80 

Touch.  One  that  old  Frederick,  your  father,  loves. 
CeL  My   father's   love  is   enough  to  honour  him: 
enough !     speak   no   more    of   him ;    you  '11   be 
whipped  for  taxation  one  of  these  days. 

39 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Touch.  The  more  pity,   that   fools   may   not   speak 

wisely  what  wise  men  do  foolishly. 
CeL  By  my  troth,  thou  sayest  true ;    for  since  the 

little  wit  that  fools  have  was  silenced,  the  little 

foolery  that  wise  men  have  makes  a  great  show. 

Here  comes  Monsieur  Le  Beau.  90 

Ros.  With  his  mouth  full  of  news. 
CeL  Which  he  will  put  on  us,  as  pigeons  feed  their 

young. 
Ros.  Then  shall  we  be  news-crammed. 
Cel.  All  the  better ;   we  shall  be  the  more  marketable. 

Enter  Le  Beau. 

Bon  jour,  Alonsieur  Le  Beau  ;  what  's  the  news? 
Le  Beau.  Fair  princess,   you  have   lost   much  good 

sport. 
CeL  Sport !   of  what  colour  ? 
Le  Beau.  What  colour,  madam!   how  shall  I  answer  100 

you? 
Ros.  As  wit  and  fortune  will. 
Touch.  Or  as  the  Destinies  decrees. 
CeL  Well  said :   that  was  laid  on  with  a  trowel. 
Touch.  Nay,  if  I  keep  not  my  rank, — 
Ros.  Thou  losest  thy  old  smell. 
Le  Beau.  You  amaze  me,  ladies :    I  would  have  told 

you  of  good  wrestling,  which  you  have  lost  the 

sight  of. 
Ros.  Yet  tell  us  the  manner  of  the  wrestling.  no 

Le  Beau.  I  will  tell  you  the  beginning;    and,   if  it 

please  your  ladyships,  you  may  see  the  end ;    for 

the  best  is  yet  to  do ;   and  here,  where  you  are, 

they  are  coming  to  perform  it. 
40 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  I,  Sc.  ii. 

Ccl.  Well,  the  beginning,  that  is  dead  and  buried. 
Le  Bcait.  There   comes   an   old   man   and  his   three 
sons, — 

Cel.  I  could  match  this  beginning  with  an  old  tale. 

LeBeaii.  Three    proper    young    men,    of    excellent  120 
growth  and  presence. 

Ros.  With  bills  on  their  necks,  '  Be  it  known  unto 
all  men  by  these  presents.' 

LeBeau.  The  eldest  of  the  three  wrestled  with 
Charles,  the  Duke's  wrestler;  which  Charles  in 
a  moment  threw  him,  and  broke  three  of  his  ribs, 
that  there  is  little  hope  of  hfe  in  him:  so  he 
served  the  second,  and  so  the  third.  Yonder 
they  lie ;  the  poor  old  man,  their  father,  making 
such  pitiful  dole  over  them  that  all  the  beholders  130 
take  his  part  with  weeping. 

Res.  Alas! 

Touch.  But  what  is  the  sport,  monsieur,  that  the  la- 
dies have  lost? 

Le  Bean.  Why,  this  that  I  speak  of. 

Touch.  Thus  men  may  grow  wiser  every  day :  it  is 
the  first  time  that  ever  I  heard  breaking  of  ribs 
was  sport  for  ladies. 

Cel.  Or  I,  I  promise  thee. 

Ros.  But  is  there  any  else  longs  to  see  this  broken   140 
music  in  his  sides?    is  there  yet  another  dotes 
upon  rib-breaking?     Shall  we  see  this  wrestling, 
cousin  ? 

Le  Bean.  You  must,  if  you  stay  here ;  for  here  is  the 
place  appointed  for  the  wrestling,  and  they  are 
ready  to  perform  it. 

41 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Cel.  Yonder,  sure,  they  are  coming :  let  us  now  stay 
and  see  it. 

Flourish.     Enter  Duke  Frederick,  Lords,  Orlando, 
Charles,  and  Attendants. 

Duke  F.  Come  on :  since  the  youth  will  not  be  en- 
treated, his  own  peril  on  his  forwardness.  150 

Ros.  Is  yonder  the  man  ? 

Le  Beau.  Even  he,  madam. 

Cel.  Alas,  he  is  too  young !  yet  he  looks  successfully. 

Duke  F.  How  now,  daughter  and  cousin !  are  you 
crept  hither  to  see  the  wrestling? 

Ros,  Ay,  my  liege,  so  please  you  give  us  leave. 

Duke  F.  You  will  take  little  delight  in  it,  I  can  tell 
you,  there  is  such  odds  in  the  man.     In  pity  of 
the  challenger's   youth   I   would   fain   dissuade 
him,   but  he  will  not  be  entreated.     Speak  to  160 
him,  ladies ;   see  if  you  can  move  him. 

Cel.  Call  him  hither,  good  Monsieur  Le  Beau. 

Duke  F.  Do  so :   I  '11  not  be  by. 

Le  Beau.  Monsieur  the  challenger,  the  princess  calls 
for  you. 

Orl.  I  attend  them  with  all  respect  and  duty. 

Ros.  Young  man,  have  you  challenged  Charles  the 
wrestler  ? 

Orl.  No,  fair  princess ;   he  is  the  general  challenger : 

I  come  but  in,  as  others  do,  to  try  with  him  the  170 
strength  of  my  youth. 

Cel.  Young  gentleman,  your  spirits  are  too  bold  for 
your  years.  You  have  seen  cruel  proof  of  this 
man's  strength :    if  you  saw  yourself  with  your 

42 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

eyes,  or  knew  yourself  with  your  judgement,  the 
fear  of  your  adventure  would  counsel  you  to  a 
more  equal  enterprise.  We  pray  you,  for  your 
own  sake,  to  embrace  your  own  safety,  and  give 
over  this  attempt. 

Res.  Do,  young  sir;   your  reputation  shall  not  there-   i8o 
fore  be  misprised :    we  will  make  it  our  suit  to 
the  Duke  that  the  wrestling  might  not  go  for- 
ward. 

Orl.  I  beseech  you,  punish  me  not  with  your  hard 
thoughts ;  wherein  I  confess  me  much  guilty,  to 
deny  so  fair  and  excellent  ladies  any  thing.  But 
let  your  fair  eyes  and  gentle  wishes  go  with  me 
to  my  trial :  wherein  if  I  be  foiled,  there  is  but 
one  shamed  that  was  never  gracious;  if  killed, 
but  one  dead  that  is  willing  to  be  so ;  I  shall  190 
do  my  friends  no  wrong,  for  I  have  none  to 
lament  me ;  the  world  no  injury,  for  in  it  I  have 
nothing:  only  in  the  world  I  fill  up  a  place, 
which  may  be  better  supplied  when  I  have  made 
it  empty. 

Ros.  The  little  strength  that  I  have,  I  would  it  were 
with  you. 

Cel.  And  mine,  to  eke  out  hers. 

Ros.  Fare  you  well :    pray  heaven  I  be  deceived  in 
you ! 

Ccl.  Your  heart's  desires  be  with  you  !  200 

Cha.  Come,  where  is  this  young  gallant  that  is  so 
desirous  to  lie  with  his  mother  earth? 

Orl.  Ready,  sir;   but  his  will  hath  in  it  a  more  mod- 
est working. 

Duke  F.  You  shall  try  but  one  fall. 

Cha,  No,  I  warrant  your  Grace,  you  shall  not  entreat 

43 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

him  to  a  second,  that  have  so  mightily  persuaded 

him  from  a  first. 
Orl.  You  mean  to  mock  me  after;    you  should  not 

have  mocked  me  before:   but  come  your  ways.    210 
Ros.  Now  Hercules  be  thy  speed,  young  man  ! 
Cel.  I  would  I  were  invisible,  to  catch  the  strong 

fellow  by  the  leg.  [They  wrestle. 

Ros.  O  excellent  young  man ! 
Cel.  If  I  had  a  thunderbolt  in  mine  eye,  I  can  tell 

who  should  down.  [Shout.     Charles  is  thrown. 

Duke  F.  No  more,  no  more. 
Orl.  Yes,  I  beseech  your  Grace:    I  am  not  yet  well 

breathed. 
Duke  F.  How  dost  thou,  Charles  ?  220 

Le  Beau.  He  cannot  speak,  my  lord. 
Duke  F.  Bear  him  away.     What  is  thy  name,  young 

man? 
Orl.  Orlando,   my  liege ;    the  youngest   son  of   Sir 

Rowland  de  Boys. 
Duke  F.  I  would  thou  hadst  been  son  to  some  man 
else: 

The  world  esteem'd  thy  father  honourable, 

But  I  did  find  him  still  mine  enemy : 

Thou    shouldst   have   better   pleased   me    with   this 
deed, 

Hadst  thou  descended  from  another  house.  230 

But  fare  thee  well ;  thou  art  a  gallant  youth : 

I  would  thou  hadst  told  me  of  another  father. 

[Exeunt  Duke  Fred.,  train,  and  Le  Beau. 
Cel.  Were  I  my  father,  coz,  would  I  do  this  ? 
Orl.  I  am  more  proud  to  be  Sir  Rowland's  son, 

His  youngest  son ;   and  would  not  change  that  call- 
ing, 

To  be  adopted  heir  to  Frederick. 

44 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Ros.  My  father  loved  Sir  Rowland  as  his  soul, 
And  all  the  world  was  of  my  father's  mind : 
Had  I  before  known  this  young  man  his  son, 
I  should  have  given  him  tears  unto  entreaties,      240 
Ere  he  should  thus  have  ventured. 

Cel.  Gentle  cousin, 

Let  us  go  thank  him  and  encourage  him : 
My  father's  rough  and  envious  disposition 
Sticks  me  at  heart.     Sir,  you  have  well  deserved : 
If  you  do  keep  your  promises  in  love 
But  justly,  as  you  have  exceeded  all  promise, 
Your  mistress  shall  be  happy. 

Ros.  Gentleman, 

[Giz'ing  him  a  chain  from  her  neck. 
Wear  this  for  me,  one  out  of  suits  with  fortune, 
That  could  give  more,  but  that  her  hand  lacks  means. 
Shall  we  go,  coz? 

Cel.  Ay.     Fair  you  well,  fair  gentleman.  250 

Orl.  Can  I  not  say,  I  thank  you?     My  better  parts 

Are  all  thrown  down,  and  that  which  here  stands  up 
Is  but  a  quintain,  a  mere  lifeless  block. 

Ros.  He  calls  us  back :   my  pride  fell  with  my  fortunes ; 
I  '11  ask  him  what  he  would.     Did  you  call,  sir  ? 
Sir,  you  have  wrestled  well  and  overthrown 
More  than  your  enemies. 

Cel.  Will  you  go,  coz? 

Ros.  Have  with  you.     Fare  you  well. 

[Exeunt  Rosalind  and  Celia. 

Orl.  What  passion  hangs  these  weights  upon  my  tongue? 
I  cannot  speak  to  her,  yet  she  urged  conference.    260 
O  poor  Orlando,  thou  art  overthrown ! 
Or  Charles  or  something  weaker  masters  thee. 

45 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Re-enter  Le  Beau. 

LeBeau.  Good  sir,  I  do  in  friendship  counsel  you 
To  leave  this  place.     Albeit  you  have  deserved 
High  commendation,  true  applause,  and  love. 
Yet  such  is  now  the  Duke's  condition, 
That  he  misconstrues  all  that  you  have  done. 
The  Duke  is  humorous  :   what  he  is,  indeed, 
More  suits  you  to  conceive  than  I  to  speak  of. 

Orl.  I  thank  you,  sir:   and,  pray  you,  tell  me  this;      270 
Which  of  the  two  was  daughter  of  the  Duke, 
That  here  was  at  the  wrestling? 

LeBeau.   Neither  his  daughter,  if  we  judge  by  manners; 
But  yet,  indeed,  the  taller  is  his  daughter : 
The  other  is  daughter  to  the  banish'd  Duke, 
And  here  detain'd  by  her  usurping  uncle. 
To  keep  his  daughter  company ;  whose  loves 
Are  dearer  than  the  natural  bond  of  sisters. 
But  I  can  tell  you  that  of  late  this  Duke 
Hath  ta'en  displeasure  'gainst  his  gentle  niece,     280 
Grounded  upon  no  other  argument 
But  that  the  people  praise  her  for  her  virtues, 
And  pity  her  for  her  good  father's  sake ; 
And,  on  my  life,  his  malice  'gainst  the  lady 
Will  suddenly  break  forth.     Sir,  fare  you  well : 
Hereafter,  in  a  better  world  than  this, 
I  shall  desire  more  love  and  knowledge  of  you. 

Orl.  I  rest  much  bounden  to  you :   fare  you  well. 

[Exit  Le  Beau. 
Thus  must  I  from  the  smoke  into  the  smother ; 
From  tyrant  Duke  unto  a  tyrant  brother :  290 

But  heavenly  Rosalind  !  [Exit. 

46 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

Scene  III. 

A  room  in  the  palace. 
Enter  Celia  and  Rosalind. 

Cel.  Why,    cousin !     why,    Rosalind !     Cupid    have 

mercy!    not  a  word? 
Ros.  Not  one  to  throw  at  a  dog. 
Ccl.  Xo,  thy  words  are  too  precious  to  be  cast  away 

upon  curs ;   throw  some  of  them  at  me ;   come, 

lame  me  with  reasons. 
Ros.  Then  there  were  two  cousins  laid  up ;  when  the 

one  should  be  lamed  with  reasons  and  the  other 

mad  without  any. 
Cel.  But  is  all  this  for  your  father?  lo 

Ros.  No,  some  of  it  is  for  my  child's  father.     O, 

how  full  of  briers  is  this  working-day  world ! 
Ccl.  They  are  but  burs,  cousin,  thrown  upon  thee  in 

holiday  foolery :    if  we  walk  not  in  the  trodden 

paths,  our  very  petticoats  will  catch  them. 
Ros.  I  could  shake  them  off  my  coat :   these  burs  are 

in  my  heart. 
Ccl.  Hem  them  away. 

Ros.   I  would  try,  if  I  could  cry  hem  and  have  him.       20 
Ccl.  Come,  come,  wrestle  with  thy  affections. 
Ros.  O,  they  take  the  part  of  a  better  wrestler  than 

myself ! 
Cel.  O,  a  good  wish  upon  you !   you  will  try  in  time, 

in  despite  of  a  fall.     But,  turning  these  jests  out 

of  service,   let  us  talk  in   good  earnest :    is  it 

possible,    on    such    a    sudden,    you    should    fall 

47 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

into  so  strong  a  liking  with  old  Sir  Rowland's 

youngest  son  ? 
Ros.  The  Duke  my  father  loved  his  father  dearly.  30 

Cel.  Doth  it  therefore  ensue  that  you  should  love  his 

son  dearly?     By  this  kind  of  chase,   I  should 

hate  him,  for  my  father  hated  his  father  dearly ; 

yet  I  hate  not  Orlando. 
Ros.  No,  faith,  hate  him  not,  for  my  sake. 
Cel.  Why  should  I  not  ?   doth  he  not  deserve  well  ? 
Ros.  Let  me  love  him  for  that,  and  do  you  love  him 

because  I  do.     Look,  here  comes  the  Duke. 
Cel.  With  his  eyes  full  of  anger. 

Enter  Duke  Frederick,  with  Lords, 


40 


Duke  F.  Mistress,    dispatch    you    with    your    safest 
haste 

And  get  you  from  our  court. 
Ros.  Me,  uncle? 

Duke  F.  You,  cousin  : 

Within  these  ten  days  if  that  thou  be'st  found 

So  near  our  public  court  as  twenty  miles, 

Thou  diest  for  it. 
Ros.  I  do  beseech  your  Grace, 

Let  me  the  knowledge  of  my  fault  bear  with  me : 

If  with  myself  I  hold  intelligence. 

Or  have  acquaintance  with  mine  own  desires  ; 

If  that  I  do  not  dream,  or  be  not  frantic, — 

As  I  do  trust  I  am  not, — then,  dear  uncle, 

Never  so  much  as  in  a  thought  unborn  50 

Did  I  offend  your  Highness. 
Duke  F.  Thus  do  all  traitors  : 

If  their  purgation  did  consist  in  words, 

Thev  are  as  innocent  as  g-race  itself: 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

Let  it  suffice  thee  that  I  trust  thee  not. 

Ros.  Yet  your  mistrust  cannot  make  me  a  traitor : 
Tell  me  whereon  the  likeHhood  depends. 

Duke  F.  Thou  art  thy  father's  daughter;  there  's  enough. 

Ros.  So  was  I  when  your  Highness  took  his  dukedom ; 
So  was  I  when  your  Highness  banish'd  him : 
Treason  is  not  inherited,  my  lord ;  60 

Or,  if  we  did  derive  it  from  our  friends, 
What 's  that  to  me  ?   my  father  was  no  traitor : 
Then,  good  my  liege,  mistake  me  not  so  much 
To  think  my  poverty  is  treacherous. 

Cel.  Dear  sovereign,  hear  me  speak. 

Dtike  F.  Ay,  Celia ;   we  stay'd  her  for  your  sake. 
Else  had  she  with  her  father  ranged  along. 

Cel.  I  did  not  then  entreat  to  have  her  stay ; 

It  was  your  pleasure  and  your  own  remorse : 

I  was  too  young  that  time  to  value  her ;  70 

But  now  I  know  her :   if  she  be  a  traitor. 

Why  so  am  I ;   we  still  have  slept  together. 

Rose  at  an  instant,  learn'd,  play'd,  eat  together. 

And  wheresoe'er  we  went,  like  Juno's  swans. 

Still  we  went  coupled  and  inseparable. 

Duke  F.  She  is  too  subtle  for  thee  ;  and  her  smoothness, 
Her  very  silence  and  her  patience 
Speak  to  the  people,  and  they  pity  her. 
Thou  art  a  fool :   she  robs  thee  of  thy  name  ; 
And  thou  wilt  show  more  bright  and  seem  more  vir- 
tuous 
When  she  is  gone.     Then  open  not  thy  lips  :  81 

Firm  and  irrevocable  is  my  doom 
Which  I  have  pass'd  upon  her ;   she  is  banish'd. 

Cel.  Pronounce  that  sentence  then  on  me,  my  liege : 
I  cannot  live  out  of  her  company. 

49 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Duke  F.  You  are  a  fool.     You,  niece,  provide  yourself: 
If  you  outstay  the  time,  upon  mine  honour, 
And  in  the  greatness  of  my  word,  you  die. 

[Exeunt  Duke  Frederick  and  Lords. 

Cel.  O  my  poor  Rosalind,  whither  wilt  thou  go  ? 

Wilt  thou  change  fathers  ?     I  will  give  thee  mine.  90 
I  charge  thee,  be  not  thou  more  grieved  than  I  am. 

Ros.  I  have  more  cause. 

Cel.  Thou  hast  not,  cousin  ; 

Prithee,  be  cheerful :   know'st  thou  not,  the  Duke 
Hath  banish'd  me,  his  daughter? 

Ros,  That  he  hath  not. 

Cel.  No,  hath  not  ?     Rosalind  lacks  then  the  love 
Which  teacheth  thee  that  thou  and  I  am  one : 
Shall  we  be  siuider'd?    shall  we  part,  sweet  girl? 
No :  let  my  father  seek  another  heir. 
Therefore  devise  with  me  how  we  may  fly, 
Whither  to  go  and  what  to  bear  with  us ;  100 

And  do  not  seek  to  take  your  charge  upon  you. 
To  bear  your  griefs  yourself  and  leave  me  out; 
For,  by  this  heaven,  now  at  our  sorrows  pale, 
Say  what  thou  canst,  I  '11  go  along  with  thee. 

Ros.  Why,  whither  shall  w^e  go  ? 

Cel.  To  seek  my  uncle  in  the  forest  of  Arden. 

Ros.  Alas,  what  danger  will  it  be  to  us. 

Maids  as  we  are,  to  travel  forth  so  far ! 
Beauty  provoketh  thieves  sooner  than  gold. 

Cel.  I  '11  put  myself  in  poor  and  mean  attire  1 10 

And  with  a  kind  of  umber  smirch  my  face ; 
The  like  do  you :   so  shall  we  pass  along 
And  never  stir  assailants. 

Ros,  Were  it  not  better, 

50 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

Because  that  I  am  more  than  common  tall, 

That  I  did  suit  me  all  points  like  a  man  ? 

A  gallant  curtle-axe  upon  my  thigh, 

A  boar-spear  in  my  hand ;   and — in  my  heart 

Lie  there  what  hidden  woman's  fear  there  will — 

We  '11  have  a  swashing  and  a  martial  outside, 

As  many  other  mannish  cowards  have  120 

That  do  outface  it  with  their  semblances. 

Cel.  What  shall  I  call  thee  when  thou  art  a  man  ? 

Ros.  I  '11  have  no  worse  a  name  than  Jove's  own  page ; 
And  therefore  look  you  call  me  Ganymede. 
But  what  will  you  be  call'd  ? 

Cel.  Something  that  hath  a  reference  to  my  state  :• 
No  longer  Celia,  but  Aliena. 

Ros.  But,  cousin,  what  if  we  assay'd  to  steal 

The  clownish  fool  out  of  your  father's  court? 
Would  he  not  be  a  comfort  to  our  travel?  130 

Cel.  He  '11  go  along  o'er  the  wide  world  with  me ; 
Leave  me  alone  to  woo  him.     Let 's  away. 
And  get  our  jewels  and  our  wealth  together ; 
Devise  the  fittest  time  and  safest  way 
To  hide  us  from  pursuit  that  will  be  made 
After  my  flight.     Now  go  we  in  content 
To  liberty  and  not  to  banishment.  [Exeunt. 


51 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

ACT  SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

The  Forest  of  Arden. 

Enter  Duke  senior,  Amiens,  and  two  or  three  Lords,  like 
foresters, 

Duke  S.  Now,  my  co-mates  and  brothers  in  exile, 
Hath  not  old  custom  made  this  life  more  sweet 
Than  that  of  painted  pomp  ?     Are  not  these  woods 
More  free  from  peril  than  the  envious  court  ? 
Here  feel  we  but  the  penalty  of  Adam, 
The  seasons'  difference:   as  the  icy  fang 
And  churlish  chiding  of  the  winter's  wind, 
Which,  when  it  bites  and  blows  upon  my  body. 
Even  till  I  shrink  with  cold,  I  smile  and  say 
*  This  is  no  flattery  :    these  are  counsellors  10 

That  feelingly  persuade  me  what  I  am.' 
Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adversity ; 
Which,  like  the  toad,  ugly  and  venomous, 
Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  his  head: 
And  this  our  life  exempt  from  public  haunt 
Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones  and  good  in  every  thing. 
I  would  not  change  it. 

Ami.  Happy  is  your  Grace, 

That  can  translate  the  stubbornness  of  fortune 
Into  so  quiet  and  so  sweet  a  style.  20 

Duke  S.  Come,  shall  we  go  and  kill  us  venison? 
And  yet  it  irks  me  the  poor  dappled  fools. 
Being  native  burghers  of  this  desert  city. 
Should  in  their  own  confines  with  forked  heads 

52 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Have  their  round  haunches  gored. 

First  Lord.  Indeed,  my  lord, 

The  melancholy  Jaques  grieves  at  that. 
And,  in  that  kind,  swears  you  do  more  usurp 
Than  doth  your  brother  that  hath  banish'd  you. 
To-day  my  Lord  of  Amiens  and  myself 
Did  steal  behind  him  as  he  lay  along  30 

Under  an  oak  whose  antique  root  peeps  out 
Upon  the  brook  that  brawls  along  this  wood: 
To  the  which  place  a  poor  sequester'd  stag, 
That  from  the  hunter's  aim  had  ta'en  a  hurt, 
Did  come  to  languish,  and  indeed,  my  lord. 
The  wretched  animal  heav'd  forth  such  groans, 
That  their  discharge  did  stretch  his  leathern  coat 
Almost  to  bursting,  and  the  big  round  tears 
Coursed  one  another  down  his  innocent  nose 
In  piteous  chase ;   and  thus  the  hairy  fool,  40 

Much  marked  of  the  melancholy  Jaques, 
Stood  on  the  extremest  verge  of  the  swift  brook 
Augmenting  it  with  tears. 

Ditke  S.  But  what  said  Jaques? 

Did  he  not  moralize  this  spectacle  ? 

First  Lord.  O,  yes,  into  a  thousand  similes. 

First,  for  his  weeping  into  the  needless  stream  ; 
'  Poor  deer,'  quoth  he,  '  thou  makest  a  testament 
As  worldlings  do,  giving  thy  sum  of  more 
To  that  which  had  too  much : '    then,  being  there 

alone, 
Left  and  abandoned  of  his  velvet  friends ;  50 

'  'Tis  right,'  quoth  he ;    '  thus  misery  doth  part 
The  flux  of  company : '  anon  a  careless  herd. 
Full  of  the  pasture,  jumps  along  by  him 
And  never  stays  to  greet  him ;   *  Ay,'  quoth  Jaques, 

53 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

'  Sweep  on,  you  fat  and  greasy  citizens ; 

'Tis  just  the  fashion  :  wherefore  do  you  look 

Upon  that  poor  and  broken  bankrupt  there  ?  ' 

Thus  most  invectively  he  pierceth  through 

The  body  of  the  country,  city,  court, 

Yea,  and  of  this  our  Hfe ;  swearing  that  we  60 

Are  mere  usurpers,  tyrants  and  what 's  worse. 

To  fright  the  animals  and  to  kill  them  up 

In  their  assign'd  and  native  dwelling-place. 

Duke  S.  And  did  you  leave  him  in  this  contemplation  ? 

Sec.  Lord.  We  did,  my  lord,  weeping  and  commenting 
Upon  the  sobbing  deer. 

D^ike  S.  Show  me  the  place : 

I  love  to  cope  him  in  these  sullen  fits. 
For  then  he  's  full  of  matter. 

First  Lord.  I'll  bring  you  to  him  straight.  {Exettnt. 

Scene  II. 

A  room  in  the  palace. 
Enter  Duke  Frederick,  zvith  Lords. 

Diike  F.  Can  it  be  possible  that  no  man  saw  them  ? 

It  cannot  be :  some  villains  of  my  court 

Are  of  consent  and  sufferance  in  this. 
First  Lord.  I  cannot  hear  of  any  that  did  see  her. 

The  ladies,  her  attendants  of  her  chamber. 

Saw  her  a-bed,  and  in  the  morning  early 

They  found  the  bed  untreasured  of  their  mistress. 
Sec.  Lord.  My  lord,  the  roynish  clown,  at  whom  so  oft 

Your  Grace  was  wont  to  laugh,  is  also  missing. 

Hisperia,  the  princess'  gentlewoman,  lo 

Confesses  that  she  secretly  o'erheard 

54 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

Your  daughter  and  her  cousin  much  commend 
The  parts  and  graces  of  the  wrestler 
That  did  but  lately  foil  the  sinewy  Charles ; 
And  she  believes,  wherever  they  are  gone, 
That  youth  is  surely  in  their  company. 
Duke.  F.  Send  to  his  brother  :  fetch  that  gallant  hither ; 
If  he  be  absent,  bring  his  brother  to  me ; 
I  '11  make  him  find  him :   do  this  suddenly, 
And  let  not  search  and  inquisition  quail  20 

To  bring  again  these  foolish  runaways.  [Exeunt., 

Scene  III. 

Before  Oliver's  house. 

Enter  Orlando  and  Adam,  meeting. 

Orl.  Who's  there? 

Adam.  What,  my  young  master?     O  my  gentle  master! 

O  my  sweet  master!     O  you  memory 

Of  old  Sir  Rowland  !   why,  what  make  you  here? 

Why  are  you  virtuous  ?  why  do  people  love  you  ? 

And  wherefore  are  you  gentle,  strong  and  valiant  ? 

Why  would  you  be  so  fond  to  overcome 

The  bonny  priser  of  the  humorous  Duke? 

Your  praise  is  come  too  swiftly  home  before  you. 

Know  you  not,  master,  to  some  kind  of  men  10 

Their  graces  serve  them  but  as  enemies  ? 

No  more  do  yours  :  your  virtues,  gentle  master. 

Are  sanctified  and  holy  traitors  to  you. 

O,  what  a  world  is  this,  when  what  is  comely 

Envenoms  him  that  bears  it ! 
Orl.  Why,  what 's  the  matter  ? 
Adam.  O  unhappy  youth ! 

55 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Come  not  within  these  doors ;   within  this  roof 
The  enemy  of  all  your  graces  lives : 
Your  brother — ^no,  no  brother  ;  yet  the  son — 
Yet  not  the  son,  I  will  not  call  him  son,  20 

Of  him  I  was  about  to  call  his  father, — 
Hath  heard  your  praises,  and  this  night  he  means 
To  burn  the  lodging  where  you  use  to  lie 
And  you  within  it :   if  he  fail  of  that, 
He  will  have  other  means  to  cut  you  off. 
I  overheard  him  and  his  practices. 
This  is  no  place ;  this  house  is  but  a  butchery : 
Abhor  it,  fear  it,  do  not  enter  it. 
OrL  Why,  whither,  Adam,  wouldst  thou  have  me  go? 
Adam,  Xo  matter  whither,  so  you  come  not  here.  30 

Orl.  What,  wouldst  thou  have  me  go  and  beg  my  food  ? 
Or  with  a  base  and  boisterous  sword  enforce 
A  thievish  living  on  the  common  road  ? 
This  I  must  do,  or  know  not  what  to  do : 
Yet  this  I  will  not  do,  do  how  I  can ; 
I  rather  will  subject  me  to  the  malice 
Of  a  diverted  blood  and  bloody  brother. 
Adam.  But  do  not  so.     I  have  five  hundred  crowns, 
The  thrifty  hire  I  saved  under  your  father. 
Which  I  did  store  to  be  my  foster-nurse  40 

When  service  should  in  my  old  limbs  lie  lame, 
And  unregarded  age  in  corners  thrown : 
Take  that,  and  He  that  doth  the  ravens  feed. 
Yea  providently  caters  for  the  sparrow, 
Be  comfort  to  my  age !     Here  is  the  gold ; 
All  this  I  give  you.     Let  me  be  your  servant : 
Though  I  look  old,  yet  I  am  strong  and  lusty  ; 
For  in  my  youth  I  never  did  apply 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

Hot  and  rebellious  liquors  in  my  blood, 

Nor  did  not  with  unbashful  forehead  woo  50 

The  means  of  weakness  and  debility  ; 

Therefore  my  age  is  as  a  lusty  winter, 

Frosty,  but  kindly :    let  me  go  with  you ; 

I  '11  do  the  service  of  a  younger  man 

In  all  your  business  and  necessities. 
Orl  O  good  old  man,  how  well  in  thee  appears 

The  constant  service  of  the  antique  world, 

When  service  sweat  for  duty,  not  for  meed ! 

Thou  art  not  for  the  fashion  of  these  times, 

Where  none  will  swear  but  for  promotion,  60 

And  having  that  do  choke  their  service  up 
Even  with  the  having :  it  is  not  so  with  thee. 
But,  poor  old  man,  thou  prunest  a  rotten  tree. 

That  cannot  so  much  as  a  blossom  yield 
In  lieu  of  all  thy  pains  and  husbandry. 
But  come  thy  ways ;  we  '11  go  along  together, 
And  ere  we  have  thy  youthful  wages  spent. 
We  '11  light  upon  some  settled  low  content. 
Adam.  Master,  go  on,  and  I  will  follow  thee. 

To  the  last  gasp,  with  truth  and  loyalty.  70 

From  seventeen  years  till  now  almost  fourscore 

Here  lived  I,  but  now  live  here  no  more. 

At  seventeen  years  many  their  fortunes  seek ; 

But  at  fourscore  it  is  too  late  a  week : 

Yet  fortune  cannot  recompense  me  better 

Than  to  die  well  and  not  my  master's  debtor. 

[Exeunt 


S7 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Scene  IV. 

The  Forest  of  Arden. 

Enter  Rosalind  for  Ganymedej  Cclia  for  Aliena,  and 
Touchstone. 

Ros.  O  Jupiter,  how  weary  are  my  spirits ! 

Touch.  I  care  not  for  my  spirits,  if  my  legs  were  not 

weary. 
Ros.  I  could    find  in  my  heart  to  disgrace  my  man's 

apparel  and  to  cry  like  a  woman ;    but  I  must 

comfort  the  weaker  vessel,  as  doublet  and  hose 

ought  to  show  itself  courageous  to  petticoat : 

therefore,  courage,  good  Aliena. 
Cel.     I  pray  you,  bear  with  me;    I  cannot  go  no 

further.  lo 

Touch.  For  my  part,   I  had  rather  bear  with  you 

than  bear  you :   yet  I  should  bear  no  cross,  if  I 

did  bear  you :    for  I  think  you  have  no  money 

in  your  purse. 
Ros,  Well,  this  is  the  forest  of  Arden. 
Touch.  Ay,  now  am  I  in  Arden;    the  more  fool  I; 

when  I  was  at  home,  I  was  in  a  better  place: 

but  travellers  must  be  content. 
Ros.  Ay,  be  so,  good  Touchstone. 

Enter  Corin  and  Silvius. 

Look  you,  who  comes  here;   a  young  man  and     20 

an  old  in  solemn  talk. 
Cor.  That  is  the  way  to  make  her  scorn  you  still. 
Sil.  O  Corin,  that  thou  knew'st  how  I  do  love  her ! 
Cor.  I  partly  guess  ;  for  I  have  loved  ere  now. 
Sil.  No,  Corin,  being  old,  thou  canst  not  guess, 

58 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

Though  in  thy  youth  thou  wast  as  true  a  lover 

As  ever  sigh'd  upon  a  midnight  pillow : 

But  if  thy  love  were  ever  like  to  mine, — 

As  sure  I  think  did  never  man  love  so, — 

How  many  actions  most  ridiculous  30 

Hast  thou  been  drawn  to  by  thy  fantasy  ? 

Cor.  Into  a  thousand  that  I  have  forgotten. 

Sil.  O,  thou  didst  then  ne'er  love  so  heartily ! 
If  thou  remember'st  not  the  slightest  folly 
That  ever  love  did  make  thee  run  into, 
Thou  hast  not  loved : 
Or  if  thou  hast  not  sat  as  I  do  now. 
Wearing  thy  hearer  in  thy  mistress'  praise, 
Thou  hast  not  loved : 

Or  if  thou  hast  not  broke  from  company  "*    40 

Abruptly,  as  my  passion  now  makes  me. 
Thou  hast  not  loved. 

0  Phebe,  Phebe,  Phebe!  [Exit. 
Ros.  Alas,  poor  shepherd  !  searching  of  thy  wound, 

1  have  by  hard  adventure  found  mine  own. 
Touch.  And  I  mine.    I  remember,  when  I  was  in 

love  I  broke  my  sword  upon  a  stone  and  bid 
him  take  that  for  coming  a-night  to  Jane  Smile : 
and  I  remember  the  kissing  of  her  batlet  and 
the  cow's  dugs  that  her  pretty  chopt  hands  had  50 
milked :  and  I  remember  the  wooing  of  a 
peascod  instead  of  her ;  from  whom  I  took  two 
cods  and,  giving  her  them  again,  said  with  weep- 
ing tears  '  Wear  these  for  my  sake.'  We  that 
are  true  lovers  run  into  strange  capers ;  but  as 
all  is  mortal  in  nature,  so  is  all  nature  in  love 
mortal  in  folly. 

59 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Ros.  Thou  speakest  wiser  than  thou  art  ware  of. 

Touch.  Nay,  I  shall  ne'er  be  ware  of  my  own  wit 

till  I  break  my  shins  against  it.  60 

Ros.  Jove,  Jove !  this  shepherd's  passion 
Is  much  upon  my  fashion. 

Touch.  And  mine ;  but  it  grows  something  stale  with 
me. 

Cel.  I  pray  you,  one  of  you  question  yond  man 
If  he  for  gold  will  give  us  any  food : 
I  faint  almost  to  death. 

Touch.  Holla,  you  clown ! 

Ros.  Peace,  fool :  he  's  not  thy  kinsman. 

Cor.  Who  calls  ? 

Touch.  Your  betters,  sir. 

Cor.f  Else  are  they  very  wretched. 

Ros.  Peace,  I  say.     Good  even  to  you,  friend. 

Cor,  And  to  you,  gentle  sir,  and  to  you  all.  70 

Ros.  I  prithee,  shepherd,  if  that  love  or  gold 
Can  in  this  desert  place  buy  entertainment. 
Bring  us  where  we  may  rest  ourselves  and  feed : 
Here  's  a  young  maid  with  travel  much  oppress'd 
And  faints  for  succour. 

Cor.  Fair  sir,  I  pity  her 

And  wish,  for  her  sake  more  than  for  mine  own. 

My  fortunes  were  more  able  to  relieve  her ; 

But  I  am  shepherd  to  another  man 

And  do  not  shear  the  fleeces  that  I  graze : 

My  master  is  of  churlish  disposition  80 

And  little  recks  to  find  the  way  to  heaven 

By  doing  deeds  of  hospitality : 

Besides,  his  cote,  his  flocks  and  bounds  of  feed 

Are  now  on  sale,  and  at  our  sheepcote  now, 

By  reason  of  his  absence,  there  is  nothing 

60 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  II.  Sc.  v. 

That  you  will  feed  on  ;  but  what  is,  come  see, 
And  in  my  voice  most  w^elcome  shall  you  be. 

Ros.  What  is  he  that  shall  buy  his  flock  and  pasture  ? 

Cor.  That  young  swain  that  you  saw  here  but  erewhile, 
That  little  cares  for  buying  any  thing.  90 

Ros.  I  pray  thee,  if  it  stand  with  honesty, 

Buy  thou  the  cottage,  pasture  and  the  flock. 
And  thou  shalt  have  to  pay  for  it  of  us. 

Ccl.  And  we  will  mend  thy  wages.     I  like  this  place, 
And  willingly  could  waste  my  time  in  it. 

Cor.  Assuredly  the  thing  is  to  be  sold : 
Go  with  me :   if  you  like  upon  report 
The  soil,  the  profit  and  this  kind  of  life, 
I  will  your  very  faithful  feeder  be  99 

And  buy  it  with  your  gold  right  suddenly.      [Exeunt 

Scene  V. 

The  Forest. 
Enter  Amiens,  Jaques,  and  others. 

Song. 

Ami.  Under  the  greenwood  tree 

Who  loves  to  lie  with  me. 
And  turn  his  merry  note 
Unto  the  sweet  bird's  throat, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither : 
Here  shall  he  see 
No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather. 

Jaq.  More,  more,  I  prithee,  more. 

Ami.  It  will  make  you  melancholy,  Monsieur  Jaques.     10 

61 


Act  II.  Sc.  V.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Jaq.  I  thank  it.  More,  I  prithee,  more.  I  can  suck 
melancholy  out  of  a  song,  as  a  weasel  sucks  eggs. 
More,  I  prithee,  more. 

Ami.  My  voice  is  ragged :  I  know  I  cannot  please 
you. 

Jaq.  I  do  not  desire  you  to  please  me;  I  do  desife 
you  to  sing.  Come,  more ;  another  stanzo :  call 
you  'em  stanzos? 

Ami.  What  you  will.  Monsieur  Jaques. 

Jaq.  Nay,  I  care  not  for  their  names;    they  owe  me     20 
nothing.     Will  you  sing  ? 

Ami.  More  at  your  request  than  to  please  myself. 

Jaq.  Well  then,  if  ever  I  thank  any  man,  I  '11  thank 
you;  but  that  they  call  compHment  is  like  the 
encounter  of  two  dog-apes,  and  when  a  man 
thanks  me  heartily,  methinks  I  have  given  him  a 
penny  and  he  renders  me  the  beggarly  thanks. 
Come,  sing;  and  you  that  will  not,  hold  your 
tongues. 

Ami.  Well,  I  '11  end  the  song.     Sirs,  cover  the  while ;     30 
the  Duke  will  drink  under  this  tree.     He  hath 
been  all  this  day  to  look  you. 

Jaq.  And  I  have  been  all  this  day  to  avoid  him.  He 
is  too  disputable  for  my  company :  I  think  of  as 
many  matters  as  he ;  but  I  give  heaven  thanks, 
and  make  no  boast  of  them.  Come,  warble, 
come. 

Song. 

Who  doth  ambition  shun,  [All  together  here. 
And  loves  to  live  i'  the  sun, 
Seeking  the  food  he  eats,  40 

And  pleased  with  what  he  gets, 

62 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  II.  Sc.  vi. 

Come  hither,  come  hither,  comxe  hither: 
Here  shall  he  see 
No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather. 
Jaq.  I  '11  give  you  a  verse  to  this  note,  that  I  made 

yesterday  in  despite  of  my  invention. 
Ami.  And  I  '11  sing  it. 
Jaq.  Thus  it  goes : — 

If  it  do  come  to  pass  50 

That  any  man  turn  ass. 
Leaving  his  wealth  and  ease 
A  stubborn  will  to  please, 
Ducdame,  ducdame,  ducdame: 
Here  shall  he  see 
Gross  fools  as  he, 
And  if  he  will  come  to  me. 

Ami.  What 's  that  '  ducdame  '  ? 

Jaq,  'Tis   a   Greek  invocation,   to  call   fools   into  a 

circle.     I  '11  go  sleep,  if  I  can ;   if  I  cannot,  I  '11     60 

rail  against  all  the  first-born  of  Egypt. 
Ami.  And  I  '11  go  seek  the  Duke :    his  banquet  is 

prepared.  [Exeunt  severally. 


Scene  VI. 

The  forest. 
Enter  Orlando  and  Adam. 

Adam.  Dear  master,  I  can  go  no  further ;  O,  I  die 
for  food!  Here  lie  I  down,  and  measure  out 
my  grave.     Farewell,  kind  master. 

Orl.  Why,  how  now,  Adam !    no  greater  heart  in 

63 


Act  II.  Sc.  vii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

thee?  Live  a  little;  comfort  a  little;  cheer 
thyself  a  little.  If  this  uncouth  forest  yield  any 
thing  savage,  I  will  either  be  food  for  it  or  bring 
it  for  food  to  thee.  Thy  conceit  is  nearer  death 
than  thy  powers.  For  my  sake  be  comfortable ; 
hold  death  awhile  at  the  arm's  end :  I  will  here  lo 
be  with  thee  presently ;  and  if  I  bring  thee  not 
something  to  eat,  I  will  give  thee  leave  to  die : 
but  if  thou  diest  before  I  come,  thou  art  a  mocker 
of  my  labour.  Well  said  !  thou  lookest  cheerly, 
and  I  '11  be  with  thee  quickly.  Yet  thou  liest  in 
the  bleak  air:  come,  I  will  bear  thee  to  some 
shelter;  and  thou  shalt  not  die  for  lack  of  a 
dinner,  if  there  live  any  thing  in  this  desert. 
Cheerly,  good  Adam  !  [Exeunt. 

Scene  VII. 

The  forest. 

A  table  set  out.    Enter  Duke  senior,  Amiens,  and  Lords 
like  outlazvs. 

Duke  S,  I  think  he  be  transform'd  into  a  beast ; 

For  I  can  no  where  find  him  like  a  man. 
First  Lord.  My  lord,  he  is  but  even  now  gone  hence : 

Here  was  he  merry,  hearing  of  a  song. 
Duke  S.  If  he,  compact  of  jars,  grow  musical. 

We  shall  have  shortly  discord  in  the  spheres. 

Go,  seek  him :   tell  him  I  would  speak  with  him. 

Enter  Jaques, 

First  Lord.  He  saves  my  labour  by  his  own  approach. 
Duke  S.  Why,  how  now,  monsieur !  what  a  life  is  this, 

64 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  II.  Sc.  vii. 

That  your  poor  friends  must  woo  your  company?    lo 
What,  you  look  merrily ! 
Jaq.  A  fool,  a  fool !     I  met  a  fool  i'  the  forest, 
A  motley  fool ;   a  miserable  world ! 
As  I  do  live  by  food,  I  met  a  fool ; 
Who  laid  him  down  and  bask'd  him  in  the  sun, 
And  rail'd  on  Lady  Fortune  in  good  terms, 
In  good  set  terms,  and  yet  a  motley  fool. 

*  Good  morrow,  fool,'  quoth  L     '  No,  sir,'  quoth  he, 

*  Call  me  not  fool  till  heaven  hath  sent  me  fortune : ' 
And  then  he  drew  a  dial  from  his  poke,  20 
And,  looking  on  it  with  lack-lustre  eye, 

Says  very  wisely,  '  It  is  ten  o'clock : 

Thus  we  may  see,'  quoth  he,  '  how  the  world  wags : 

'Tis  but  an  hour  ago  since  it  was  nine ; 

And  after  one  hour  more  'twill  be  eleven ; 

And  so,  from  hour  to  hour,  we  ripe  and  ripe. 

And  then,  from  hour  to  hour,  we  rot  and  rot ; 

And  thereby  hangs  a  tale.'     When  I  did  hear 

The  motley  fool  thus  moral  on  the  time, 

My  lungs  began  to  crow  like  chanticleer,  30 

That  fools  should  be  so  deep-contemplative ; 

And  I  did  laugh  sans  intermission 

An  hour  by  his  dial.     O  noble  fool ! 

A  worthy  fool !     IMotley's  the  only  wear. 

Duke  S.  What  fool  is  this  ? 

Jaq.  O  worthy  fool !     One  that  hath  been  a  courtier. 
And  says,  if  ladies  be  but  young  and  fair, 
They  have  the  gift  to  know  it :    and  in  his  brain. 
Which  is  as  dry  as  the  remainder  biscuit 
After  a  voyage,  he  hath  strange  places  cramm'd      40 
With  observation,  the  which  he  vents 

65 


Act  II.  Sc.  vii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

In  mangled  forms.     O  that  I  were  a  fool ! 
I  am  ambitious  for  a  motley  coat. 

Duke  S.  Thou  shalt  have  one. 

Jaq.  It  is  my  only  suit; 

Provided  that  you  weed  your  better  judgements 

Of  all  opinion  that  grows  rank  in  them 

That  I  am  wise.     I  must  have  liberty 

Withal,  as  large  a  charter  as  the  wind, 

To  blow  on  whom  I  please ;   for  so  fools  have ; 

And  they  that  are  most  galled  with  my  folly,  50 

They  most  must  laugh.     And  why,  sir,  must  they  so  ? 

The  '  why '  is  plain  as  way  to  parish  church : 

He  that  a  fool  doth  very  wisely  hit 

Doth  very  foolishly,  although  he  smart, 

Not  to  seem  senseless  of  the  bob :  if  not. 

The  wise  man's  folly  is  anatomized 

Even  by  the  squandering  glances  of  the  fool. 

Invest  me  in  my  motley ;  give  me  leave 

To  speak  my  mind,  and  I  will  through  and  through 

Cleanse  the  foul  body  of  the  infected  world,  60 

If  they  will  patiently  receive  my  medicine. 

Duke  S.  Fie  on  thee !     I  can  tell  what  thou  wouldst  do. 

Jaq,  What,  for  a  counter,  would  I  do  but  good  ? 

Duke  S.  Most  mischievous  foul  sin,  in  chiding  sin : 
For  thou  thyself  hast  been  a  libertine, 
As  sensual  as  the  brutish  sting  itself ; 
And  all  the  embossed  sores  and  headed  evils. 
That  thou  with  license  of  free  foot  hast  caught, 
Wouldst  thou  disgorge  into  the  general  world. 

Jaq.  Why,  who  cries  out  on  pride,  7° 

That  can  therein  tax  any  private  party  ? 
Doth  it  not  flow  as  hugely  as  the  sea, 
66 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  II.  Sc.  vii. 

Till  that  the  weary  very  means  do  ebb  ? 

What  woman  in  the  city  do  I  name, 

When  that  I  say  the  city-woman  bears 

The  cost  of  princes  on  unworthy  shoulders  ? 

Who  can  come  in  and  say  that  I  mean  her, 

When  such  a  one  as  she  such  is  her  neighbour  ? 

Or  what  is  he  of  basest  function. 

That  says  his  bravery  is  not  on  my  cost,  80 

Thinking  that  I  mean  him,  but  therein  suits 

His  folly  to  the  mettle  of  my  speech  ? 

There  then ;    how  then  ?    what  then  ?     Let  me  see 

wherein 
My  tongue  hath  wrong'd  him :   if  it  do  him  right. 
Then  he  hath  wrong'd  himself ;  if  he  be  free, 
Why  then  my  taxing  like  a  wild-goose  flies, 
Unclaim'd  of  any  man.     But  who  comes  here? 

Enter  Orlando,  zvith  his  sword  drawn. 

Orl.  Forbear,  and  eat  no  more. 

Jaq.  Why,  I  have  eat  none  yet. 

Orl.  Nor  shalt  not,  till  necessity  be  served. 

Jaq,  Of  what  kind  should  this  cock  come  of?  90 

Duke  S.  Art  thou  thus  bolden'd,  man,  by  thy  distress  ? 
Or  else  a  rude  despiser  of  good  manners. 
That  in  civility  thou  seem'st  so  empty  ? 

Orl.  You  touch'd  my  vein  at  first :  the  thorny  point 
Of  bare  distress  hath  ta'en  from  me  the  show 
Of  smooth  civility :  yet  am  I  inland  bred 
And  know  some  nurture.     But  forbear,  I  say : 
He  dies  that  touches  any  of  this  fruit 
Till  I  and  my  affairs  are  answered. 

Jaq.  An  you  will  not  be  answered  with  reason,  I  100 
must  die. 

67 


Act  II.  Sc.  vii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Duke  S.  What  would  you  have  ?     Your  gentleness  shall 
force, 
More  than  your  force  move  us  to  gentleness. 

Orl.  I  almost  die  for  food ;   and  let  me  have  it. 

Duke  S.  Sit  down  and  feed,  and  welcome  to  our  table. 

Orl.  Speak  you  so  gently  ?     Pardon  me,  I  pray  you  : 
I  thought  that  all  things  had  been  savage  here ; 
And  therefore  put  I  on  the  countenance 
Of  stern  commandment.     But  whate'er  you  are 
That  in  this  desert  inaccessible,  no 

Under  the  shade  of  melancholy  boughs. 
Lose  and  neglect  the  creeping  hours  of  time ; 
If  ever  you  have  look'd  on  better  days. 
If  ever  been  where  bells  have  knoU'd  to  church. 
If  ever  sat  at  any  good  man's  feast, 
If  ever  from  your  eyelids  wiped  a  tear 
And  know  what  'tis  to  pity  and  be  pitied, 
Let  gentleness  my  strong  enforcement  be : 
In  the  which  hope  I  blush,  and  hide  my  sword. 

Duke  S.  True  is  it  that  we  have  seen  better  days,         120 
And  have  with  holy  bell  been  knoU'd  to  church, 
And  sat  at  good  men's  feasts,  and  wiped  our  eyes 
Of  drops  that  sacred  pity  hath  engender'd : 
And  therefore  sit  you  down  in  gentleness 
And  take  upon  command  what  help  we  have 
That  to  your  wanting  may  be  minister'd. 

Orl.  Then  but  forbear  your  food  a  little  wHile, 
Whiles,  like  a  doe,  I  go  to  find  my  fawn 
And  give  it  food.     There  is  an  old  poor  man. 
Who  after  me  hath  many  a  weary  step  130 

Limp'd  in  pure  love :   till  he  be  first  sufficed, 
Oppress'd  with  two  weak  evils,  age  and  hunger, 
68 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  II.  Sc.  vii. 

I  will  not  touch  a  bit. 
Duke  S.  Go  find  him  out, 

And  we  will  nothing  waste  till  you  return. 
Orl.  I  thank  ye ;  and  be  blest  for  your  good  comfort! 

[Exit. 

Duke  S.  Thou  seest  we  are  not  all  alone  unhappy: 
This  wide  and  universal  theatre 
Presents  more  woeful  pageants  than  the  scene 
Wherein  we  play  in. 

Jaq.  All  the  world  's  a  stage, 

And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players :         140 
They  have  their  exits  and  their  entrances ; 
And  one  man  in  his  time  plays  many  parts, 
His  acts  being  seven  ages.     At  first  the  infant, 
Mewhng  and  puking  in  the  nurse's  arms. 
Then  the  whining  school-boy,  with  his  satchel 
And  shining  morning  face,  creeping  like  snail 
Unwillingly  to  school.     And  then  the  lover, 
Sighing  like  furnace,  with  a  woeful  ballad 
Made  to  his  mistress'  eye-brow.     Then  a  soldier. 
Full  of  strange  oaths,  and  bearded  like  the  pard,  150 
Jealous  in  honour,  sudden  and  quick  in  quarrel. 
Seeking  the  bubble  reputation 

Even  in  the  cannon's  mouth.     And  then  the  justice. 
In  fair  round  belly  with  good  capon  lined. 
With  eyes  severe  and  beard  of  formal  cut, 
Full  of  wise  saws  and  modern  instances ; 
And  so  he  plays  his  part.     The  sixth  age  shifts 
Into  the  lean  and  slipper' d  pantaloon. 
With  spectacles  on  nose  and  pouch  on  side. 
His  youthful  hose,  well  saved,  a  world  too  wide  160 
For  his  shrunk  shank ;  and  his  big  manly  voice, 
69 


Act  II.  Sc.  vii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Turning  again  toward  childish  treble,  pipes 
And  whistles  in  his  sound.     Last  scene  of  all, 
That  ends  this  strange  eventful  history. 
Is  second  childishness  and  mere  oblivion, 
Sans  teeth,  sans  eyes,  sans  taste,  sans  every  thing. 

Re-enter  Orlando,  zvith  Adam. 

Duke  S,  Welcome.     Set  down  your  venerable  burthen. 

And  let  him  feed. 
OrL  I  thank  you  most  for  him. 
Adam.  So  had  you  need : 

I  scarce  can  speak  to  thank  you  for  myself.  170 

Diikc  S.  Welcome ;   fall  to :   I  will  not  trouble  you 

As  yet,  to  question  you  about  your  fortunes. 

Give  us  some  music ;  and,  good  cousin,  sing. 

Song. 

Ami.  Blow,  blow,  thou  winter  wind, 

Thou  art  not  so  unkind 

As  man's  ingratitude ; 
Thy  tooth  is  not  so  keen, 
Because  thou  art  not  seen. 

Although  thy  breath  be  rude.  179 

Heigh-ho  !   sing,  heigh-ho  !   unto  the  green  holly : 
Most  friendship  is  feigning,  most  loving  mere  folly : 

Then,  heigh-ho,  the  holly ! 

This  life  is  most  jolly. 

Freeze,  freeze,  thou  bitter  sky, 
That  dost  not  bite  so  nigh 
As  benefits  forgot : 

70 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 


Though  thou  the  waters  warp, 
Thy  sting  is  not  so  sharp 
As  friend  remember'd  not. 
Heigh-ho!    sing,  &c.  190 

Duke  S.  If  that  you  were  the  good  Sir  Rowland's  son, 
As  you  have  whisper'd  faithfully  you  were. 
And  as  mine  eye  doth  his  effigies  witness 
Most  truly  limn'd  and  living  in  your  face, 
Be  truly  welcome  hither:   I  am  the  Duke 
That  loved  your  father :  the  residue  of  your  fortune. 
Go  to  my  cave  and  tell  me.     Good  old  man, 
Thou  art  right  welcome  as  thy  master  is. 
Support  him  by  the  arm.     Give  me  your  hand,      199 
And  let  me  all  your  fortunes  understand.     [Exeunt. 

ACT   THIRD. 

Scene  I. 

A  room  in  the  palace. 
Enter  Duke  Frederick,  Lords,  and  Oliver, 

Duke  F.  Not  see  him  since?     Sir,  sir,  that  cannot  be: 
But  were  I  not  the  better  part  made  mercy, 
I  should  not  seek  an  absent  argument 
Of  my  revenge,  thou  present.     But  look  to  it: 
Find  out  thy  brother,  wheresoe'er  he  is ; 
Seek  him  with  candle ;    bring  him  dead  or  living 
Within  this  twelvemonth,  or  turn  thou  no  more 
To  seek  a  living  in  our  territory. 
Thy  lands  and  all  things  that  thou  dost  call  thine 
Worth  seizure  do  we  seize  into  our  hands,  10 

71 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Till  thou  canst  quit  thee  by  thy  brother's  mouth 
Of  what  we  think  against  thee. 

OH.  O  that  your  Highness  knew  my  heart  in  this ! 
I  never  loved  my  brother  in  my  life. 

Duke  F.  More    villain    thou.     Well,    push    him    out    of 
doors ; 
And  let  my  oflficers  of  such  a  nature 
Make  an  extent  upon  his  house  and  lands : 
Do  this  expediently  and  turn  him  going.        [Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

The  forest. 

Enter  Orlando,  zvith  a  paper. 

Orl.  Hang  there,  my  verse,  in  witness  of  my  love : 

And  thou,  thrice-crowned  queen  of  night,  survey 
With  thy  chaste  eye,  from  thy  pale  sphere  above, 
Thy  huntress'  name  that  my  full  life  doth  sway. 

0  Rosalind !   these  trees  shall  be  my  books 

And  in  their  barks  my  thoughts  I  '11  character ; 
That  every  eye  which  in  this  forest  looks 

Shall  see  thy  virtue  witness'd  every  where. 
Run,  run,  Orlando ;   carve  on  every  tree 
The  fair,  the  chaste  and  un expressive  she.     [Exit.  lo 

Enter  Corin  and  Touchstone. 

Cor.  And  how  like  you  this  shepherd's  Hfe,  Master 
Touchstone  ? 

Touch.  Truly,  shepherd,  in  respect  of  itself,  it  is  a 
good  Hfe ;  but  in  respect  that  it  is  a  shepherd's 
life,  it  is  naught.     In  respect  that  it  is  solitary, 

1  like  it  very  well ;   but  in  respect  that  it  is  pri- 
vate,  it  is   a  very  vile   life.     Now,   in   respect 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

it  is  in  the  fields,  it  pleaseth  me  well;    but  in 
respect  it  is  not  in  the  court,  it  is  tedious.     As 
it  is  a  spare  life,  look  you,  it  fits  my  humour     20 
well;    but  as  there  is  no  more  plenty  in  it,  it 
goes  much  against  my  stomach.     Hast  any  phi- 
losophy in  thee,  shepherd? 
Cor.  No  more  but  that  I  know  the  more  one  sickens 
the  worse  at  ease  he  is ;   and  that  he  that  wants 
money,    means    and    content    is    without    three 
good  friends  ;  that  the  property  of  rain  is  to  wet 
and  fire  to  bum;    that  good  pasture  makes  fat 
sheep,  and  that  a  great  cause  of  the  night  is 
lack  of  the  sun ;     that  he  that  hath  learned  no     30 
.  wit  by  nature  nor  art  may  complain  of  good 
breeding  or  comes  of  a  very  dull  kindred. 
Touch.  Such  a  one  is  a  natural  philosopher.     Wast 

ever  in  court,  shepherd? 
Cor,  No,  truly. 

Touch.  Then  thou  art  damned. 
Cor.  Nay,  I  hope. 
Touch.  Truly,  thou  art  damned,  like  an  ill-roasted 

Qgg  all  on  one  side. 
Cor.  For  not  being  at  court  ?     Your  reason.  40 

Touch.  Why,  if  thou  never  wast  at  court,  thou  never 
sawest  good  manners  ;  if  thou  never  sawest  good 
manners  then  thy  manners  must  be  wicked ;  and 
wickedness  is  sin,  and  sin  is  damnation.  Thou 
art  in  a  parlous  state,  shepherd. 
Cor.  Not  a  whit.  Touchstone:  those  that  are  good 
manners  at  the  court  are  as  ridiculous  in  the 
country  as  the  behaviour  of  the  country  is  most 
mockable  at  the  court.     You  told  me  you  salute 

7Z 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

not  at  the  court,  but  you  kiss  your  hands :    that     50 
courtesy  would  be  uncleanly,  if  courtiers  were 
shepherds. 

Touch.  Instance,  briefly ;  come,  instance. 

Cor.  Why,  we  are  still  handling  our  ewes,  and  their 
fells,  you  know,  are  greasy. 

Touch.  Why,  do  not  your  courtier's  hands  sweat? 
and  is  not  the  grease  of  a  mutton  as  wholesome 
as  the  sweat  of  a  man?  Shallow,  shallow.  A 
better  instance,  I  say ;   come. 

Cor.  Besides,  our  hands  are  hard.  60 

Touch.  Your  lips  will  feel  them  the  sooner.  Shal- 
low again.     A  more  sounder  instance,  come. 

Cor.  And  they  are  often  tarred  over  with  the  surgery 
of  our  sheep ;  and  would  you  have  us  kiss  tar  ? 
The  courtier's  hands  are  perfumed  with  civet. 

Touch.  Most  shallow  man !  thou  worm's-meat,  in 
respect  of  a  good  piece  of  flesh  indeed !  Learn 
of  the  wise,  and  perpend :  civet  is  of  a  baser 
birth  than  tar,  the  very  uncleanly  flux  of  a  cat. 
IMend  the  instance,  shepherd.  70 

Cor.  You  have  too  courtly  a  wit  for  me :   I  '11  rest. 

Touch.  Wilt  thou  rest  damned?  God  help  thee, 
shallow  man  !  God  make  incision  in  thee  !  thou 
art  raw. 

Cor.  Sir,  I  am  a  true  labourer :   I  earn  that  I  eat,  get 
that  I  wear,  owe  no  man  hate,  envy  no  man's 
happiness,   glad   of  other  men's   good,   content 
with  my  harm,  and  the  greatest  of  my  pride  is    ' 
to  see  my  ewes  graze  and  my  lambs  suck. 

Touch.  That  is  another  simple  sin  in  you,  to  bring     80 
the  ewes  and  the  rams  together,  and  to  offer  to 

74 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

get  your  living  by  the  copulation  of  cattle;  to 
be  bawd  to  a  bell-wether,  and  to  betray  a  she- 
lamb  of  a  twelvemonth  to  a  crooked-pated,  old, 
cuckoldly  ram,  out  of  all  reasonable  match.  If 
thou  beest  not  damned  for  this,  the  devil  himself 
will  have  no  shepherds ;  I  cannot  see  else  how 
thou  shouldst  'scape. 
Cor.  Here  comes  young  Master  Ganymede,  my  new 

mistress's  brother.  90 

Enter  Rosalind,  zvith  a  paper,  reading, 

Ros.  From  the  east  to  western  Ind, 

No  jewel  is  like  Rosalind. 
Her  worth,  being  mounted  on  the  wind. 
Through  all  the  world  bears  Rosalind. 
All  the  pictures  fairest  lined 
Are  but  black  to  Rosalind. 
Let  no  face  be  kept  in  mind 
But  the  fair  of  Rosalind. 

Touch.  I  '11  rhyme  you  so  eight  years  together,  din- 
ners and  suppers  and  sleeping-hours  excepted:   100 
it  is  the  right  butter-women's  rank  to  market. 

Ros.  Out,  fool ! 

Touch.  For  a  taste : — 

If  a  hart  do  lack  a  hind. 
Let  him  seek  out  Rosalind. 
If  the  cat  will  after  kind. 
So  be  sure  will  Rosalind. 
Winter  garments  must  be  lined, 
So  must  slender  Rosalind. 

7S 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

They  that  reap  must  sheaf  and  bind ;  no 

Then  to  cart  with  RosaHnd. 

Sweetest  nut  hath  sourest  rind, 

Such  a  nut  is  Rosahnd. 

He  that  sweetest  rose  will  find, 

Must  find  love's  prick  and  Rosalind. 

This  is  the  very  false  gallop  of  verses :    why  do 
you  infect  yourself  with  them  ? 

Ros.  Peace,  you  dull  fool !     I  found  them  on  a  tree. 

Touch.  Truly,  the  tree  yields  bad  fruit. 

Ros.  I  '11  grafif  it  with  you,  and  then  I  shall  graff  it  120 
with  a  medlar :  then  it  will  be  the  earliest  fruit  i' 
the  country ;  for  you  '11  be  rotten  ere  you  be  half 
ripe,  and  that 's  the  right  virtue  of  the  medlar. 

Touch.  You  have  said ;  but  whether  wisely  or  no,  let 
the  forest  judge. 

Enter  Celia,  zvith  a  writing. 

Ros.  Peace! 

Here  comes  my  sister,  reading:    stand  aside. 
Cel.    [Reads]   Why  should  this  a  desert  be  ? 
For  it  is  unpeopled  ?     No ; 
Tongues  I  '11  hang  on  every  tree,  130 

That  shall  civil  sayings  show: 
Some,  how  brief  the  life  of  man 

Runs  his  erring  pilgrimage. 
That  the  stretching  of  a  span 
Buckles  in  his  sum  of  age; 
Some,  of  violated  vows 

'Twixt  the  souls  of  friend  and  friend : 
But  upon  the  fairest  boughs, 
Or  at  every  sentence  end, 

76 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Will  I  Rosalinda  write,  140 

Teaching  all  that  read  to  know 
The  quintessence  of  every  sprite 

Heaven  would  in  little  show. 
Therefore  Heaven  Nature  charged 

That  one  body  should  be  fiU'd 
With  all  graces  wide-enlarged : 

Nature  presently  distill'd 
Helen's  cheek,  but  not  her  heart, 

Cleopatra's  majesty, 
Atalanta's  better  part,  150 

Sad  Lucretia's  modesty. 
Thus  Rosalind  of  many  parts 

By  heavenly  synod  was  devised ; 
Of  many  faces,  eyes  and  hearts. 
To  have  the  touches  dearest  prized. 
Heaven  would  that  she  these  gifts  should  have. 
And  I  to  live  and  die  her  slave. 
Ros.  O  most  gentle  pulpiter!    what  tedious  homily 
of    love    have    you    wearied    your   parishioners 
withal,   and  never  cried  '  Have  patience,  good  160 
people  ' ! 
Cel.  How  now !    back,  friends !     Shepherd,  go  off  a 

little.     Go  with  him,  sirrah. 
Touch.  Come,  shepherd,  let  us  make  an  honourable 
retreat ;   though  not  with  bag  and  baggage,  yet 
with  scrip  and  scrippage. 

[Exeunt  Covin  and  Touchstone, 
Cel  Didst  thou  hear  these  verses  ? 
Ros.  O,  yes,  I  heard  them  all,  and  more  too;    for 
some  of  them  had  in  them  more  feet  than  the 
verses  would  bear.  170 

77 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Cel.  That 's   no   matter :    the    feet   might   bear   the 

verses. 
Ros.  Ay,  but  the  feet  were  lame  and  could  not  bear 

themselves  without  the  verse  and  therefore  stood 

lamely  in  the  verse. 
Cel.  But   didst   thou  hear  without  wondering  how 

thy  name  should  be  hanged  and  carved  upon 

these  trees? 
Ros.  I  was  seven  of  the  nine  days  out  of  the  wonder 

before  you  came ;    for  look  here  what  I  found  i8o 

on  a  palm  tree.     I  was  never  so  be-rhymed  since 

Pythagoras'  time,  that  I  was  an  Irish  rat,  which 

I  can  hardly  remember. 
CcL  Trow  you  who  hath  done  this  ? 
Ros.  Is  it  a  man  ? 
Cel.  And  a  chain,   that   you   once  wore,   about  his 

neck.     Change  you  colour? 
Ros.  I  prithee,  who  ? 
Cel.  O  Lord,  Lord!    it  is  a  hard  matter  for  friends 

to  meet;    but  mountains  may  be  removed  with  190 

earthquakes  and  so  encounter. 
Ros.  Nay,  but  who  is  it  ? 
CcL  Is  it  possible  ? 
Ros.  Nay,    I    prithee    now    with    most    petitionary 

vehemence,  tell  me  who  it  is. 
Cel.  O  wonderful,  wonderful,   and   most  wonderful 

wonderful!   and  yet  again  wonderful,  and  after 

that,  out  of  all  hooping ! 
Ros.  Good  my  complexion !    dost  thou  think,  though 

I  am  caparisoned  like  a  man,  I  have  a  doublet  zjO 

and  hose  in  my  disposition  ?     One  inch  of  delay 

more  is  a   South-sea  of  discovery;    I  prithee, 

78 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

tell  me  who  is  it  quickly,  and  speak  apace.  I 
would  thou  couldst  stammer,  that  thou  might' st 
pour  this  concealed  man  out  of  thy  mouth,  as 
wine  comes  out  of  a  narrow-mouthed  bottle, 
either  too  much  at  once,  or  none  at  all.  I 
prithee,  take  the  cork  out  of  thy  mouth  that  I 
may  drink  thy  tidings. 

Cel.^  So  you  may  put  a  man  in  your  belly.  210 

Ros.  Is  he  of  God's  making?  What  manner  of 
man?  Is  his  head  worth  a  hat?  Or  his  chin 
worth  a  beard? 

Cel.  Nay,  he  hath  but  a  little  beard. 

Ros.  Why,  God  will  send  more,  if  the  man  will  be 
thankful :  let  me  stay  the  growth  of  his  beard, 
if  thou  delay  me  not  the  knowledge  of  his 
chin. 

Cel.  It  is  young  Orlando,  that  tripped  up  the  wres- 
tler's heels  and  your  heart  both  in  an  instant.        220 

Ros.  Nay,  but  the  devil  take  mocking:  speak  sad 
brow  and  true  maid. 

Cel.  V  faith,  coz,  'tis  he. 

Ros.  Orlando? 

Cel.  Orlando. 

Ros.  Alas  the  day !  what  shall  I  do  with  my  doublet 
and  hose?  What  did  he  when  thou  sawest 
him?  What  said  he?  How  looked  he? 
Wherein  went  he  ?  What  makes  he  here  ?  Did 
he  ask  for  me?  Where  remains  he?  How  230 
parted  he  with  thee?  and  when  shalt  thou  see 
him  again  ?     Answer  me  in  one  word. 

Cel.  You  must  borrow  me  Gargantua's  mouth  first: 
'tis  a  word  too  great  for  any  mouth  of  this  age's 

79 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

size.     To  say  ay  and  no  to  these  particulars  is 

more  than  to  answer  in  a  catechism. 
Ros.  But  doth  he  know  that  I  am  in  this  forest  and 

in  man's  apparel?     Looks  he  as  freshly  as  he 

did  the  day  he  wrestled? 
CeL  It  is  as  easy  to  count  atomies  as  to  resolve  the  240 

propositions  of  a  lover;   but  take  a  taste  of  my 

finding  him,  and  relish  it  with  good  observance. 

I  found  him  under  a  tree,  like  a  dropped  acorn. 
Ros.  It  may  well  be  called  Jove's  tree,  when  it  drops 

forth  such  fruit. 
CeL  Give  me  audience,  good  madam. 
Ros.  Proceed. 
Cel.  There  lay  he,  stretched  along,  like  a  wounded 

knight. 
Ros,  Though  it  be  pity  to  see  such  a  sight,  it  well  250 

becomes  the  ground. 
Cel.  Cry  '  holla  '  to  thy  tongue,  I  prithee ;   it  curvets 

unseasonably.     He  was  furnished  like  a  hunter. 
Ros.  O,  ominous !   he  comes  to  kill  my  heart. 
Cel.  I  would  sing  my  song  without  a  burden :   thou 

bringest  me  out  of  tune. 
Ros.  Do  you  not  know  I  am  a  woman?    when  I 

think,  I  must  speak.     Sweet,  say  on. 
Cel.  You  bring  me  out.     Soft !    comes  he  not  here  ?  260 

Enter  Orlando  and  Jaques. 

Ros.  'Tis  he:   slink  by,  and  note  him. 

Jaq.  I  thank  you  for  your  company ;  but,  good  faith, 

I  had  as  lief  have  been  myself  alone. 
Orl.  And  so  had  I ;  but  yet,  for  fashion  sake, 

I  thank  you  too  for  your  society. 

80 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Jaq.  God  buy  you :   let  's  meet  as  little  as  we  can. 

Orl.  I  do  desire  we  may  be  better  strangers. 

Jaq.   I   pray  you,   mar  no  more  trees   with  writing 

love-songs  in  their  barks.  270 

Orl.  I  pray  you,  mar  no  moe  of  my  verses  with  read- 
ing them  ill-favouredly. 

Jaq.  Rosalind  is  your  love's  name? 

Orl.  Yes,  just. 

Jaq.  I  do  not  like  her  name. 

Orl.  There  was  no  thought  of  pleasing  you  when  she 
was  christened. 

Jaq.  What  stature  is  she  of? 

Orl.  Just  as  high  as  my  heart. 

Jaq.  You  are  full  of  pretty  answers.     Have  you  not  280 
been    acquainted    with    goldsmiths'    wives,    and 
conned  them  out  of  rings  ? 

Orl.  Not  so ;  but  I  answer  you  right  painted  cloth, 
from  whence  you  have  studied  your  questions. 

Jaq.  You  have  a  nimble  wit :  I  think  'twas  made  of 
Atalanta's  heels.  Will  you  sit  down  with  me? 
and  we  two  will  rail  against  our  mistress  the 
world,  and  all  our  misery. 

Orl.  I  will  chide  no  breather  in  the  world  but  my- 
self, against  whom  I  know  most  faults.  290 

Jaq.  The  worst  fault  you  have  is  to  be  in  love. 

Orl.  'Tis  a  fault  I  will  not  change  for  your  best  vir- 
tue.    I  am  weary  of  you. 

Jaq.  By  my  troth,  I  was  seeking  for  a  fool  when  I 
found  you. 

Orl.  He  Is  drowned  in  the  brook :  look  but  in,  and 
you  shall  see  him. 

81 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Jaq.  There  I  shall  see  mine  own  figure. 

Orl.  Which  I  take  to  be  either  a  fool  or  a  cipher. 

Jaq.  I  '11  tarry  no  longer  with  you :    farewell,  good  300 
Signior  Love. 

Orl,  I    am   glad   of   your    departure:     adieu,    good 

Monsieur  Melancholy.  [Exit  J  agues. 

Ros.  [Aside  to  Celia]  I  will  speak  to  him  like  a 
saucy  lackey,  and  under  that  habit  play  the 
knave  with  him.     Do  you  hear,  forester  ? 

Orl  Very  well:  what  would  you ? 

Ros.  I  pray  you,  what  is  't  o'clock  ? 

Orl.  You  should  ask  me  what  time  o'  day :    there  's 

no  clock  in  the  forest.  310 

Ros.  Then  there  is  no  true  lover  in  the  forest ;  else 
sighing  every  minute  and  groaning  every  hour 
would  detect  the  lazy  foot  of  Time  as  well  as 
a  clock. 

Orl.  And  why  not  the  swift  foot  of  Time?  had  not 
that  been  as  proper? 

Ros.  By  no  means,  sir :  Time  travels  in  divers  paces 
with  divers  persons.  I  '11  tell  you  who  Time 
ambles  withal,  who  Time  trots  withal,  who 
Time  gallops  withal  and  who  he  stands  still 
withal.  320 

Orl.  I  prithee,  who  doth  he  trot  withal? 

Ros.  Marry,  he  trots  hard  with  a  young  maid  be- 
tween the  contract  of  her  marriage  and  the  day 
it  is  solemnized:  if  the  interim  be  but  a 
se'nnight.  Time's  pace  is  so  hard  that  it  seems 
the  length  of  seven  year. 

Orl.  Who  ambles  Time  withal? 

Ros.  With  a  priest  that  lacks  Latin,  and  a  rich  man 
that  hath  not  the  gout ;   for  the  one  sleeps  easily 

82 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc  ii. 

because  he  cannot  study,  and  the  other  Hves  mer-  330 
rily  because  he  feels  no  pain;    the  one  lacking 
the  burden  of  lean  and  wasteful  learning,  the 
other  knowing  no  burden  of  heavy  tedious  pen- 
ury :  these  Time  ambles  withal. 

Orl  AVho  doth  he  gallop  withal? 

Ros.  With  a  thief  to  the  gallows ;  for  though  he  go 
as  softly  as  foot  can  fall,  he  thinks  himself  too 
soon  there. 

Orl.  Who  stays  it  still  withal? 

Ros.  With  lawyers  in  the  vacation ;    for  they  sleep  340 
between  term  and  term  and  then  they  perceive 
not  how  Time  moves. 

Orl.  Where  dwell  you,  pretty  youth? 

Ros.  \Mth  this  shepherdess,  my  sister:  here  In  the 
skirts  of  the  forest,  like  fringe  upon  a  petti- 
coat. 

Orl.  Are  you  native  of  this  place? 

Ros.  As  the  cony  that  you  see  dwell  where  she  is 
kindled. 

Orl.  Your  accent  is  something  finer  than  you  could  350 
purchase  in  so  removed  a  dwelling. 

Ros.  I  have  been  told  so  of  many :  but  indeed  an  old 
religious  uncle  of  mine  taught  me  to  speak,  who 
was  in  his  youth  an  inland  man ;  one  that  knew 
courtship  too  well,  for  there  he  fell  in  love.  I 
have  heard  him  read  many  lectures  against  it, 
and  I  thank  God  I  am  not  a  woman,  to  be 
touched  with  so  many  giddy  offences  as  he  hath 
generally  taxed  their  whole  sex  withal. 

Orl.  Can  you  remember  any  of  the  principal  evils  360 
that  he  laid  to  the  charge  of  women? 

83 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Ros.  There  were  none  principal ;  they  were  all  like 
one  another  as  half-pence  are,  every  one  fault 
seeming  monstrous  till  his  fellow-fault  came  to 
match  it. 

Orl.  I  prithee,  recount  some  of  them. 

Ros,  No,  I  will  not  cast  away  my  physic  but  on  those 
that  are  sick.  There  is  a  man  haunts  the  forest, 
that  abuses  our  young  plants  with  carving 
Rosalind  on  their  barks ;  hangs  odes  upon  haw-  370 
thorns  and  elegies  on  brambles ;  all,  forsooth, 
deifying  the  name  of  Rosalind :  if  I  could  meet 
that  fancy-monger,  I  would  give  him  some  good 
counsel,  for  he  seems  to  have  the  quotidian  of 
love  upon  him. 

Orl.  I  am  he  that  is  so  love-shaked :  I  pray  you,  tell 
me  your  remedy. 

Ros.  There  is  none  of  my  uncle's  marks  upon  you : 
he  taught  me  how  to  know  a  man  in  love ;    in 
which  cage  of  rushes  I  am  sure  you  are  not  380^ 
prisoner. 

Orl.  What  were  his  marks? 

Ros.  A  lean  cheek,  which  you  have  not ;  a  blue  eye 
and  sunken,  which  you  have  not ;  an  unques- 
tionable spirit,  which  you  have  not ;  a  beard 
neglected,  which  you  have  not;  but  I  pardon 
you  for  that,  for  simply  your  having  in  beard 
is  a  younger  brother's  revenue :  then  your  hose 
should  be  ungartered,  your  bonnet  unhanded, 
your  sleeve  unbuttoned,  your  shoe  untied  and  390 
every  thing  about  you  demonstrating  a  careless 
desolation  ;  but  you  are  no  such  man ;  you  are 
rather  point-device   in   your  accoutrements,   as 

84 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  iL 

loving  yourself  than  seeming  the  lover  of  any 
other. 

OrL  Fair  youth,  I  would  I  could  make  thee  believe 
I  love. 

Ros.  Me  believe  it !  you  may  as  soon  make  her  that 
you  love  believe  it;  which,  I  warrant,  she  is 
apter  to  do  than  to  confess  she  does  :  that  is  one  400 
of  the  points  in  the  which  women  still  give  the 
lie  to  their  consciences.  B,ut,  in  good  sooth,  are 
you  he  that  hangs  the  verses  on  the  trees,  where- 
in Rosalind  is  so  admired  ? 

Orl.  I  swear  to  thee,  youth,  by  the  white  hand  of 
Rosalind,  I  am  that  he,  that  imfortunate  he. 

Ros.  But  are  you  so  much  in  love  as  your  rhymes 
speak  ? 

Orl.  Neither   rhyme   nor   reason   can   express   how 

much.  410 

Ros.  Love  is  merely  a  madness ;  and,  I  tell  you,  de- 
serves as  well  a  dark  house  and  a  whip  as  mad- 
men do:  and  the  reason  why  they  are  not  so 
punished  and  cured  is,  that  the  lunacy  is  so  ordi- 
nary that  the  whippers  are  in  love  too.  Yet  I 
profess  curing  it  by  counsel. 

Ovl.  Did  you  ever  cure  any  so? 

Ros.  Yes,  one,  and  in  this  manner.  He  was  to 
imagine  me  his  love,  his  mistress ;  and  I  set 
him  every  day  to  woo  me :  at  which  time  would  420 
I,  being  but  a  moonish  youth,  grieve,  be  effemi- 
nate, changeable,  longing  and  liking;  proud, 
fantastical,  apish,  shallow,  inconstant,  full  of 
tears,  full  of  smiles ;  for  every  passion  some- 
thing and  for  no  passion  truly  any  thing,  as 

85 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

boys  and  women  are  for  the  most  part  cattle  of 
this  colour :  would  now  like  him,  now  loathe 
him ;  then  entertain  him,  then  forswear  him ; 
now  weep  for  him,  then  spit  at  him ;  that  I 
drave  my  suitor  from  his  mad  humour  of  love  430 
to  a  living  humour  of  madness ;  which  was,  to 
forswear  the  full  stream  of  the  world  and  to  live 
in  a  nook  merely  monastic.  And  thus  I  cured 
him ;  and  this  way  will  I  take  upon  me  to  wash 
your  liver  as  clean  as  a  sound  sheep's  heart,  that 
there  shall  not  be  one  spot  of  love  in  't. 

07'1.  I  would  not  be  cured,  youth. 

Ros.  I  would  cure  you,  if  you  would  but  call  me 
Rosalind  and  come  every  day  to  my  cote  and 
woo  me.  440 

Oji.  Now,  by  the  faith  of  my  love,  I  will :  tell  me 
where  it  is. 

Ros.  Go  with  me  to  it  and  I  '11  show  it  you :  and  by 
the  way  you  shall  tell  me  where  in  the  forest  you 
live.     Will  you  go? 

Orl.  With  all  my  heart,  good  youth. 

Ros.  Nay,  you  must  call  me  Rosalind.     Come,  sister, 

will  you  go  ?  [Exeunt. 

Scene  III. 

The  forest. 

Enter  Touchstone  and  Audrey;  Jaques  behind. 

Touch.  Come  apace,  good  Audrey:  I  will  fetch  up 
your  goats,  Audrey.  And  how,  Audrey?  am 
I  the  man  yet?  doth  my  simple  feature  content 
you? 

86 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  iii. 

And.  Your  features!     Lord  warrant  us!    what  fea- 
tures ? 
Touch.  I  am  here  with  thee  and  thy  goats,  as  the 

most  capricious  poet,  honest  Ovid,  was  among 

the  Goths. 
Jaq.    [Aside]   O  knowledge  ill-inhabited,  worse  than     lo 

Jove  in  a  thatched  house ! 
Touch.  When  a  man's  verses  cannot  be  understood, 

nor  a  man's  good  wit  seconded  with  the  forward 

child,  understanding,  it  strikes  a  man  more  dead 

than  a  great  reckoning  in  a  little  room.     Truly, 

I  would  the  gods  had  made  thee  poetical. 
And.  I  do  not  know  what  '  poetical '  is :   is  it  honest 

in  deed  and  word  ?  is  it  a  true  thing  ? 
Touch.  No,  truly;    for  the  truest  poetry  is  the  most 

feigning;    and  lovers  are  given  to  poetry,  and     20 

what  they  swear  in  poetry  may  be  said  as  lovers 

they  do  feign. 
Aud.  Do  you  wish  then  that  the  gods  had  made  me 

poetical  ? 
Touch.  I  do,  truly ;   for  thou  swearest  to  me  thou  art 

honest:   now,  if  thou  wert  a  poet,  I  might  have 

some  hope  thou  didst  feign. 
Aud,  Would  you  not  have  me  honest? 
Touch.  No,  truly,  unless  thou  wert  hard-favoured ; 

for  honesty  coupled  to  beauty  is  to  have  honey     30 

a  sauce  to  sugar. 
Jaq.   [Aside]   A  material  fool ! 
Aud.  Well,  I  am  not  fair;   and  therefore  I  pray  the 

gods  make  me  honest. 
Touch.  Truly,  and  to  cast  away  honesty  upon  a  foul 

slut  were  to  put  good  meat  into  an  unclean  dish. 

87 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Aud.  I  am  not  a  slut,  though  I  thank  the  gods  I  am 
foul. 

Touch.  Well,  praised  be  the  gods  for  thy  foulness! 

sluttishness  may  come  hereafter.     But  be  it  as  it     40 
may  be,  I  will  marry  thee,  and  to  that  end  I 
have  been  with  Sir  Oliver  Martext  the  vicar  of 
the  next  village,  who  hath  promised  to  meet  me 
in  this  place  of  the  forest  and  to  couple  us. 

Jaq.    [Aside]   I  would  fain  see  this  meeting. 

Aud.  Well,  the  gods  give  us  joy! 

Touch.  Amen.  A  man  may,  if  he  were  of  a  fearful 
heart,  stagger  in  this  attempt ;  for  here  we  have 
no  temple  but  the  wood,  no  assembly  but  horn- 
beasts.  But  what  though  ?  Courage !  As  horns  50 
are  odious,  they  are  necessary.  It  is  said,  '  many 
a  man  knows  no  end  of  his  goods  :  '  right ;  many 
a  man  has  good  horns,  and  knows  no  end  of 
them.  Well,  that  is  the  dowry  of  his  wife  ;  'tis 
none  of  his  own  getting.  Horns  ? — even  so : — 
poor  men  alone  ?  No,  no ;  the  noblest  deer  hath 
them  as  huge  as  the  rascal.  Is  the  single  man 
therefore  blessed?  No:  as  a  walled  town  is 
more  worthier  than  a  village,  so  is  the  forehead 
of  a  married  man  more  honourable  than  the  bare  60 
brow  of  a  bachelor ;  and  by  how  much  defence 
is  better  than  no  skill,  by  so  much  is  a  horn  more 
precious  than  to  want.     Here  comes  Sir  Oliver. 

Enter  Sir  Oliver  Martext. 

Sir  Oliver  Martext,  you  are  well  met :  will  you 
dispatch  us  here  under  this  tree,  or  shall  we  go 
with  you  to  your  chapel  ? 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  iii. 

Sir  Oil  Is  there  none  here  to  give  the  woman? 

Touch.  I  will  not  take  her  on  gift  of  any  man. 

Sir  Oil.  Truly,  she  must  be  given,  or  the  marriage  is 

not  lawful.  70 

Jaq.  Proceed,  proceed :    I  '11  give  her. 

Touch.  Good  even,  good  Alaster  What-ye-call't : 
how  do  you,  sir  ?  You  are  very  well  met :  God 
'ild  you  for  your  last  company :  I  am  very  glad 
to  see  you :  even  a  toy  in  hand  here,  sir :  nay, 
pray  be  covered. 

Jaq.  Will  you  be  married,  motley? 

Touch.  As  the  ox  hath  his  bow,  sir,  the  horse  his 
curb  and  the  falcon  her  bells,  so  man  hath  his 
desires ;    and  as  pigeons  bill,  so  wedlock  would     80 
be  nibbling. 

Jaq.  And  will  you,  being  a  man  of  your  breeding, 
be  married  tmder  a  bush  like  a  beggar?  Get 
you  to  church,  and  have  a  good  priest  that  can 
tell  you  what  marriage  is :  this  fellow  will  but 
join  you  together  as  they  join  wainscot ;  then 
one  of  you  will  prove  a  shrunk  panel,  and  like 
green  timber  warp,  warp. 

Touch.    [Aside]   I  am  not  in  the  mind  but  I  were     90 
better  to  be  married  of  him  than  of  another :   for 
he  is  not  like  to  marry  me  well ;   and  not  being 
well  married,  it  will  be  a  good  excuse  for  me 
hereafter  to  leave  my  wife. 

Jaq.  Go  thou  with  me,  and  let  me  counsel  thee. 

Touch.  Come,  sweet  Audrey: 

We  must  be  married,  or  we  must  live  in  bawdry. 
Farewell,  good  Master  Oliver :  not, — 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


O  sweet  Oliver, 

O  brave  Oliver,  loo 

Leave  me  not  behind  thee : 


but,— 


Wind  away. 
Begone,  I  say, 
I  will  not  to  wedding  with  thee. 
[Exeunt  Jaqnes,  Touchstone,  and  Audrey 
Sir  Oli.  'Tis  no  matter:   ne'er  a  fantastical  knave  of 

them  all  shall  flout  me  out  of  my  calling.  [Exit. 

Scene   IV. 

The  forest. 
Enter  Rosalind  and  Celia. 

Ros.  Never  talk  to  me ;   I  will  weep. 

Cel.  Do,  I  prithee ;  but  yet  have  the  grace  to  consider 
that  tears  do  not  become  a  man. 

Ros.  But  have  I  not  cause  to  weep  ? 

Cel.  As  good  cause  as  one  would  desire;  therefore 
weep. 

Ros.  His  very  hair  is  of  the  dissembling  colour. 

Cel.  Something  browner  than  Judas's :  marry,  his 
kisses  are  Judas's  own  children. 

Ros.  V  faith,  his  hair  is  of  a  good  colour.  lo 

Cel.  An  excellent  'dolour  :  your  chestnut  was  ever  the 
only  colour. 

Ros.  And  his  kissing  is  as  full  of  sanctity  as  the 
touch  of  holy  bread. 

Cel.  He  hath  bought  a  pair  of  cast  lips  of  Diana: 
a  nun  of  winter's  sisterhood  kisses  not  more  re- 
ligiously;   the  very  ice  of  chastity  is  in  them. 

90 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

Ros.  But  why  did  he  swear  he  would  come  this 
morning,  and  comes  not  ? 

Cel  Nay,  certainly,  there  is  no  truth  in  him.  20 

Ros.  Do  you  think  so  ? 

Cel.  Yes ;  I  think  he  is  not  a  pick-purse  nor  a  horse- 
stealer; but  for  his  verity  in  love,  I  do  think 
him  as  concave  as  a  covered  goblet  or  a  worm- 
eaten  nut. 

Ros.  Not  true  in  love? 

Cel.  Yes,  when  he  is  in ;  but  I  think  he  is  not  in. 

Ros.  You  have  heard  him  swear  downright  he  was. 

Cel.  '  Was  '  is  not  '  is  ' :   besides,  the  oath  of  a  lover 

is  no  stronger  than  the  word  of  a  tapster ;   they     30 
are  both  the  confirmer  of  false  reckonings.     He 
attends  here  in   the   forest   on  the  Duke  your 
father. 

Ros.  I  met  the  Duke  yesterday  and  had  much  ques- 
tion with  him :  he  asked  me  of  what  parentage 
I  was ;  I  told  him,  of  as  good  as  he ;  so  he 
laughed  and  let  me  go.  But  what  talk  we  of 
fathers,  when  there  is  such  a  man  as  Orlando? 

Cel.  O,  that 's  a  brave  man !   he  writes  brave  verses, 

speaks  brave  words,  swxars  brave  oaths  and  40 
breaks  them  bravely,  quite  traverse,  athwart  the 
heart  of  his  lover ;  as  a  puisny  tilter,  that  spurs 
his  horse  but  on  one  side,  breaks  his  staff  like  a 
noble  goose :  but  all 's  brave  that  youth  mounts 
and  folly  guides.     Who  comes  here? 

Enter  Corin. 

Cor.  Mistress  and  master,  you  have  oft  inquired 
■     After  the  shepherd  that  complain'd  of  love, 

91 


Act  III.  Sc.  V.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Who  you  saw  sitting  by  me  on  the  turf, 
Praising  the  proud  disdainful  shepherdess 
That  was  his  mistress. 
Cel.  Well,  and  what  of  him?     50 

Cor.  If  you  will  see  a  pageant  truly  play'd, 
Between  the  pale  complexion  of  true  love 
And  the  red  glow  of  scorn  and  proud  disdain. 
Go  hence  a  little  and  I  shall  conduct  you, 
If  you  will  mark  it. 
Ros.  O,  come,  let  us  remove : 

The  sight  of  lovers  feedeth  those  in  love. 
Bring  us  to  this  sight,  and  you  shall  say 
I  '11  prove  a  busy  actor  in  their  play.  [Exejutt. 

Scene  V. 

Another  part  of  the  forest. 

Enter  Sihiiis  and  Phehe. 

Sil.  Sweet  Phebe,  do  not  scorn  me ;   do  not,  Phebe ; 
Say  that  you  love  me  not,  but  say  not  so 
In  bitterness.     The  common  executioner, 
Whose  heart  the  accustomed  sight  of  death  makes 

hard, 
Falls  not  the  axe  upon  the  humbled  neck 
But  first  begs  pardon :   will  you  sterner  be 
Than  he  that  dies  and  lives  by  bloody  drops. 

Enter  Rosalind,  Cclia,  and  Corin,  behind, 

Phe.  I  would  not  be  thy  executioner : 

I  fly  thee,  for  I  would  not  injure  thee. 

Thou  tell'st  me  there  is  murder  in  mine  eye :  10 

'Tis  pretty,  sure,  and  very  probable, 

That  eyes,  that  are  the  frail'st  and  softest  things, 

92 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  v. 

Who  shut  their  coward  gates  on  atomies, 
Should  be  call'd  tyrants,  butchers,  murderers ! 
Now  I  do  frown  on  thee  with  all  my  heart ; 
And  if  mine  eyes  can  wound,  now  let  them  kill  thee : 
Now  counterfeit  to  swoon ;   why  now  fall  down ; 
Or  if  thou  canst  not,  O,  for  shame,  for  shame. 
Lie  not,  to  say  mine  eyes  are  murderers ! 
Now  show  the  wound  mine  eye  hath  made  in  thee :  20 
Scratch  thee  but  with  a  pin,  and  there  remains 
Some  scar  of  it ;   lean  but  upon  a  rush. 
The  cicatrice  and  capable  impressure 
Thy  palm  some  moment  keeps ;  but  now  mine  eyes, 
Which  I  have  darted  at  thee,  hurt  thee  not, 
Nor,  I  am  sure,  there  is  no  force  in  eyes 
That  can  do  hurt. 
SiL  O  dear  Phebe, 

If  ever, — as  that  ever  may  be  near, — 
You  meet  in  some  fresh  cheek  the  power  of  fancy, 
Then  shall  you  know  the  wounds  invisible  30 

That  love's  keen  arrows  make. 
pj^^^  But  till  that  time 

Come  not  thou  near  me :   and  when  that  time  comes. 
Afflict  me  with  thy  mocks,  pity  me  not ; 
As  till  that  time  I  shall  not  pity  thee. 
Ros.  And  why,  I  pray  you  ?     Who  might  be  your  mother, 
That  you  insult,  exult,  and  all  at  once. 
Over   the   wretched?     What   though   you   have   no 

beauty, — 
As,  by  my  faith,  I  see  no  more  in  you 
Than  without  candle  may  go  dark  to  bed, — 
Must  you  be  therefore  proud  and  pitiless  ?  4^ 

Why,  what  means  this  ?     Why  do  you  look  on  me  ? 

93 


Act  III.  Sc.  V.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

I  see  no  more  in  you  than  in  the  ordinary 

Of  nature's  sale-work.     'Od's  my  httle  Hfe, 

I  think  she  means  to  tangle  my  eyes  too ! 

No,  faith,  proud  mistress,  hope  not  after  it : 

Tis  not  your  inky  brows,  your  black  silk  hair, 

Your  bugle  eyeballs,  nor  your  cheek  of  cream. 

That  can  entame  my  spirits  to  your  worship. 

You  foolish  shepherd,  wherefore  do  you  follow  her. 

Like  foggy  south,  puffing  with  wind  and  rain  ?        50 

You  are  a  thousand  times  a  properer  man 

Than  she  a  woman :  'tis  such  fools  as  you 

That  makes  the  world  full  of  ill-favour'd  children : 

'Tis  not  her  glass,  but  you,  that  flatters  her ; 

And  out  of  you  she  sees  herself  more  proper 

Than  any  of  her  lineaments  can  show  her. 

But,  mistress,  know  yourself :    down  on  your  knees. 

And  thank  heaven,  fasting,  for  a  good  man's  love : 

For  I  must  tell  you  friendly  in  your  ear. 

Sell  when  you  can  :   you  are  not  for  all  markets  :    60 

Cry  the  man  mercy  ;   love  him  ;   take  his  offer  : 

Foul  is  most  foul,  being  foul  to  be  a  scoffer. 

So  take  her  to  thee,  shepherd :    fare  you  well. 

Phe.  Sweet  youth,  I  pray  you,  chide  a  year  together:' 
I  had  rather  hear  you  chide  than  this  man  woo. 

Ros.  He 's  fallen  in  love  with  your  foulness  and 
she  '11  fall  in  love  with  my  anger.  If  it  be  so, 
as  fast  as  she  answers  thee  with  frowning  looks, 
I  '11  sauce  her  with  bitter  words.  Why  look 
you  so  upon  me  ?  70 

■Phe.  For  no  ill  will  I  bear  you. 

Ros.  I  pray  you,  do  not  fall  in  love  with  me, 
For  I  am  falser  than  vows  made  in  wine : 

94 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  III.  Sc.  v. 

Besides,  I  like  you  not.     If  you  will  know  my  house, 

'Tis  at  the  tuft  of  olives  here  hard  by. 

Will  you  go,  sister?     Shepherd,  ply  her  hard. 

Come,  sister.     Shepherdess,  look  on  him  better, 

And  be  not  proud :  though  all  the  world  could  see. 

None  could  be  so  abused  in  sight  as  he. 

Come,  to  our  flock. 

[Exeunt  Rosalind,  Cclia  and  Covin. 

Phe.  Dead  shepherd,  now  I  find  thy  saw  of  might,        8i 
'  Who  ever  loved  that  loved  not  at  first  sight  ?  ' 

Sil  Sweet  Phebe,— 

Phe.  Ha,  what  say'st  thou,  Silvius? 

Sil.  Sweet  Phebe,  pity  me. 

PJic.  Why,  I  am  sorry  for  thee,  gentle  Silvius. 

Sil.  Wherever  sorrow  is,  relief  would  be  : 
If  you  do  sorrow  at  my  grief  in  love, 
By  giving  love  your  sorrow  and  my  grief 
Were  both  extermined. 

Phe.  Thou  hast  my  love  :   is  not  that  neighbourly  ?        90 

Sil.  I  would  have  you. 

Phe.  Why,  that  were  covetousness. 

Silvius,  the  time  was  that  I  hated  thee, 
And  yet  it  is  not  that  I  bear  thee  love ; 
But  since  that  thou  canst  talk  of  love  so  well, 
Thy  company,  which  erst  was  irksome  to  me, 
I  will  endure,  and  I  '11  employ  thee  too : 
But  do  not  look  for  further  recompense 
Than  thine  own  gladness  that  thou  art  employ'd. 

Sil.  So  holy  and  so  perfect  is  my  love, 

And  I  in  such  a  poverty  of  grace,  100 

That  I  shall  think  it  a  most  plenteous  crop 

To  glean  the  broken  ears  after  the  man 

That  the  main  harvest  reaps :    loose  now  and  then 

95 


Act  III.  Sc.  V.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

A  scatter'd  smile,  and  that  I  '11  live  upon. 

Phe.  Know'st  thou  the  youth  that  spoke  to  me  erewhile? 

5iL  Not  very  well,  but  I  have  met  him  oft ; 

And  he  hath  bought  the  cottage  and  the  bounds 
That  the  old  carlot  once  was  master  of. 

Phe.  Think  not  I  love  him,  though  I  ask  for  him ; 

'Tis  but  a  peevish  boy;   yet  he  talks  well;  no 

But  what  care  I  for  words  ?  yet  words  do  well 
When  he  that  speaks  them  pleases  those  that  hear. 
It  is  a  pretty  youth :   not  very  pretty : 
But,  sure,  he  's  proud,  and  yet  his  pride  becomes  him : 
He  '11  make  a  proper  man :   the  best  thing  in  him 
Is  his  complexion  ;   and  faster  than  his  tongue 
Did  make  ofifence  his  eye  did  heal  it  up. 
He  is  not  very  tall ;  yet  for  his  years  he  's  tall : 
His  leg  is  but  so  so ;  and  yet  'tis  well : 
There  was  a  pretty  redness  in  his  lip,  120 

A  little  riper  and  more  lusty  red 
Than  that  mix'd  in  his  cheek;   'twas  just  the  differ- 
ence 
Betwixt  the  constant  red  and  mingled  damask. 
There  be  some  women,  Silvius,  had  they  mark'd  him 
In  parcels  as  I  did,  would  have  gone  near 
To  fall  in  love  with  him :  but,  for  my  part, 
I  love  him  not  nor  hate  him  not ;   and  yet 
I  have  more  cause  to  hate  him  than  to  love  him : 
For  what  had  he  to  do  to  chide  at  me  ? 
He  said  mine  eyes  were  black  and  my  hair  black ;  130 
And,  now  I  am  remember'd,  scorn'd  at  me : 
I  marvel  why  I  answer' d  not  again : 
But  that 's  all  one ;    omittance  is  no  quittance. 
I  '11  write  to  him  a  very  taunting  letter, 
And  thou  shalt  bear  it :   wilt  thou,  Silvius  ? 

96 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Sil.  Phebe,  with  all  my  heart. 

Phe.  I  '11  write  it  straight; 

The  matter  's  in  my  head  and  in  my  heart : 
I  will  be  bitter  with  him  and  passing  short. 
Go  with  me,  Silvius.  [Exeunt. 

ACT  FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

The  forest. 
Enter  Rosalind,  Celia,  and  Jaqiies. 

Jaq.  I  prithee,  pretty  youth,  let  me  be  better  ac- 
quainted with  thee. 

Ros.  They  say  you  are  a  melancholy  fellow. 

Jaq.  I  am  so  ;   I  do  love  it  better  than  laughing. 

Ros.  Those  that  are  in  extremity  of  either  are  abom- 
inable fellows,  and  betray  themselves  to  every 
modern  censure  worse  than  drunkards. 

Jaq.  Why,  'tis  good  to  be  sad  and  say  nothing. 

Ros.  Why  then,  'tis  good  to  be  a  post. 

Jaq.  I  have  neither  the  scholar's  melancholy,  which  lo 
is  emulation  ;  nor  the  musician's,  which  is  fan- 
tastical ;  nor  the  courtier's,  which  is  proud ;  nor 
the  soldier's,  wdiich  is  ambitious ;  nor  the  law- 
yer's, which  is  politic ;  nor  the  lady's,  which  is 
nice ;  nor  the  lover's,  which  is  all  these :  but 
it  is  a  melancholy  of  mine  own,  compounded  of 
many  simples,  extracted  from  many  objects; 
and  indeed  the  sundry  contemplation  of  my 
travels,  in  which  my  often  rumination  wraps  me 
in  a  most  humorous  sadness  20 

97 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Ros.  A  traveller !  By  my  faith,  you  have  great  rea- 
son to  be  sad :  I  fear  you  have  sold  your  own 
lands  to  see  other  men's ;  then,  to  have  seen 
much,  and  to  have  nothing,  is  to  have  rich  eyes 
and  poor  hands. 

Jaq.  Yes,  I  have  gained  my  experience. 

Ros.  And  your  experience  makes  you  sad :  I  had 
ratlier  have  a  fool  to  make  me  merry  than  ex- 
perience to  make  me  sad;  and  to  travel  for  it 
too! 

Enter  Orlando, 

Orl.  Good-day  and  happiness,  dear  Rosalind !  30 

Jaq.  Nay,  then,  God  buy  you,  an  you  talk  in  blank 

verse.  [Exit. 

Ros.  Farewell,  Monsieur  Traveller:  look  you  Hsp 
and  wear  strange  suits ;  disable  all  the  benefits 
of  your  own  country ;  be  out  of  love  with  your 
nativity  and  almost  chide  God  for  making  you 
that  countenance  you  are ;  or  I  will  scarce  think 
you  have  swam  in  a  gondola.  Why,  how  now, 
Orlando !  where  have  you  been  all  this  while  ? 
You  a  lover!  An  you  serve  me  such  another  40 
trick,  never  come  in  my  sight  more. 

Orl  My  fair  Rosalind,  I  come  within  an  hour  of  my 
promise. 

Ros.  Break  an  hour's  promise  in  love  !  He  that  will 
divide  a  minute  into  a  thousand  parts,  and  break 
but  a  part  of  the  thousandth  part  of  a  minute  in 
the  affairs  of  love,  it  may  be  said  of  him  that 
Cupid  hath  clapped  him  o'  the  shoulder,  but  I  '11 
warrant  him  heart-whole. 

Orl.  Pardon  me,  dear  Rosalind.  50 

98 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Ros.  Nay,  an  you  be  so  tardy,  come  no  more  in  my 

sight :   I  had  as  Hef  be  wooed  of  a  snail. 
Orl.  Of  a  snail? 

Ros.  Ay,  of  a  snail ;   for  though  he  come  slowly,  he 

carries  his  "house  on  his  head;   a  better  jointure, 

I  think,  than  you  make  a  woman:    besides,  he 

brings  his  destiny  with  him. 

Crl.  What's  that? 

Ros.  \M'iy,  horns,  which  such  as  you  are  fain  to  be 

beholding   to   your   wives    for:    but   he   comes     6o 
armed  in  his  fortune  and  prevents  the  slander  of 
his  wife. 
Or!.  Virtue  is  no  horn-maker;    and  my  Rosalind  is 

virtuous. 
Ros.  And  I  am  your  Rosalind. 
Ccl.  It  pleases  him  to  call  you  so  ;  but  he  hath  a 

Rosalind  of  a  better  leer  than  you. 
Ros.  Come,  woo  me,  woo  me;    for  now  I  am  in  a 
holiday   humour   and   like   enough   to   consent. 
What  would  you  say  to  me  now,   an  I  were 
your  very  very  Rosalind  ?  7^ 

Orl  I  would  kiss  before  I  spoke. 
Ros.  Nay,  you  were  better  speak  first;    and  when 
you  were  gravelled  for  lack  of  matter,  you  might 
take  occasion  to  kiss.     Very  good  orators,  when 
they  are  out,  they  will  spit ;   and  for  lovers  lack- 
ing— God  warn  us  ! — matter,  the  cleanliest  shift 
is  to  kiss. 
Orl.  How  if  the  kiss  be  denied? 
Ros.  Then  she  puts  you  to  entreaty  and  there  begins 

new  matter.  80 

Orl.  Who   could  be  out,   being  before  his  beloved 
mistress  ? 

99 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Ros.  ]\Iarry,  that  should  you,  if  I  were  your  mistress, 
or  I  should  think  my  honesty  ranker  than  my 
wit. 

Orl.  What,  of  my  suit  ? 

Ros.  Not  out  of  your  apparel,  and  yet  out  of  your 
suit.     Am  not  I  your  Rosalind? 

Orl.  I  take  some  joy  to  say  you  are,  because  I  would 

be  talking  of  her.  90 

Ros.  Well,  in  her  person,  I  say  I  will  not  have  you. 

Orl.  Then  in  mine  own  person  I  die. 

Ros.  Xo,  faith,  die  by  attorney.  The  poor  world  is 
almost  six  thousand  years  old,  and  in  all  this 
time  there  was  not  any  man  died  in  his  own 
person,  videlicet,  in  a  love-cause.  Troilus  had 
his  brains  dashed  out  with  a  Grecian  club ;  yet 
he  did  what  he  could  to  die  before,  and  he  is  one 
of  the  patterns  of  love.  Leander,  he  would  have 
lived  many  a  fair  year,  though  Hero  had  turned  100 
nun,  if  it  had  not  been  for  a  hot  midsummer 
night ;  for,  good  youth,  he  went  but  forth  to 
wash  him  in  the  Hellespont  and  being  taken  with 
the  cramp  was  drowned  :  and  the  foolish  chroni- 
clers of  that  age  found  it  was  '  Hero  of  Sestos.' 
But  these  are  all  lies :  men  have  died  from  time 
to  time  and  worms  have  eaten  them,  but  not  for 
love. 

Orl.  I   would  not  have  my  right  Rosalind  of  this 

mind;  for,  I  protest,  her  frown  might  kill  me.        no 

Ros.  By  this  hand,  it  will  not  kill  a  fly.  But  come, 
now  I  will  be  your  Rosalind  in  a  more  coming- 
on  disposition,  and  ask  me  what  you  will,  I  will 
grant  it. 

100 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Orl.  Then  love  me,  Rosalind. 

Ros.  Yes,  faith,  will  I,  Fridays  and  Saturdays  and 

all. 
Orl.  And  wilt  thou  have  me? 
Ros.  Ay,  and  twenty  such. 

Orl.  What  sayest  thou?  120 

Ros.  Are  you  not  good  ? 
Orl.  I  hope  so. 
Ros.  Why  then,  can  one  desire  too  much  of  a  good 

thing?     Come,  sister,  you  shall  be  the  priest  and 

marry  us.     Give  me  your  hand,  Orlando.     What 

do  you  say,  sister? 
Orl.   Pray  thee,  marry  us. 
Cel.  I  cannot  say  the  words. 
Ros.  You  must  begin,  '  \\\\\  you,  Orlando — ' 
Ccl.  Go  to.     Will  you,  Orlando,  have  to  wife  this   130 

Rosalind  ? 
Orl.  I  will. 
Ros.  Ay,  but  when  ? 

Orl.  Why  now;   as  fast  as  she  can  marry  us. 
Ros.  Then  you  must  say  '  I  take  thee,  Rosalind,  for 

wife.' 
Orl.  I  take  thee,  Rosalind,  for  wife. 
Ros.  I  might  ask  you  for  your  commission ;    but  I 

do  take  thee,  Orlando,  for  my  husband :   there  's 

a  girl  goes  before  the  priest ;    and  certainly  a  140 

woman's  thought  runs  before  her  actions. 
Orl.  So  do  all  thoughts;  they  are  winged. 
Ros.  Now  tell  me  how  long  you  would  have  her 

after  you  have  possessed  her. 
Qrl.  For  ever  and  a  day. 
Ros.  Say  '  a  day,'  without  the  '  ever.'     No,  no,  Or- 

lOI 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

lando;  men  are  April  when  they  woo,  Decem- 
ber when  they  wed :  maids  are  May  when  they 
are  maids,  but  the  sky  changes  when  they  are 
wives.  I  will  be  more  jealous  of  thee  than  a  150 
Barbary  cock-pigeon  over  his  hen,  more  clam- 
orous than  a  parrot  against  rain,  more  new- 
fangled than  an  ape,  more  giddy  in  my  desires 
than  a  monkey :  I  will  weep  for  nothing,  like 
Diana  in  the  fountain,  and  I  will  do  that  when 
you  are  disposed  to  be  merry ;  I  will  laugh  like 
a  hyen,  and  that  when  thou  art  inclined  to  sleep. 

Orl.  But  will  my  Rosalind  do  so? 

Ros.  By  my  life,  she  will  do  as  I  do. 

Orl.  O,  but  she  is  wise.  160 

Ros.  Or  else  she  could  not  have  the  wit  to  do  this : 
the  wiser,  the  waywarder :  make  the  doors  upon 
a  woman's  wit  and  it  will  out  at  the  casement ; 
shut  that  and  'twill  out  at  the  key-hole;  stop 
that,  'twill  fly  with  the  smoke  out  at  the  chim- 
ney. 

Orl.  A  man  that  had  a  wife  with  such  a  wit,  he 
might  say  '  Wit,  whither  wilt  ?  ' 

Ros.  Nay,  you  might  keep  that  check  for  it  till  you 
met  your  wife's  wit  going  to  your  neighbor's 
bed. 

Orl.  And  what  wit  could  wit  have  to  excuse  that.        170 

Ros.  Marry,  to  say  she  came  to  seek  you  there.  You 
shall  never  take  her  without  her  answer,  unless 
you  take  her  without  her  tongue.  O,  that 
woman  that  cannot  make  her  fault  her  hus- 
band's occasion,  let  her  never  nurse  her  child 
herself,  for  she  will  breed  it  like  a  fool ! 

Orl.  For  these  two  hours,  Rosalind,  I  will  leave  thee.     ^ 

Ros.  Alas,  dear  love,  I  cannot  lack  thee  two  hours  ! 

102 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Orl.  I   must  attend   the  Duke  at   dinner:    by  two 

o'clock  I  will  be  with  thee  again.  i8o 

Ros.  Ay,  go  your  ways,  go  your  ways ;  I  knew  what 
you  would  prove :  my  friends  told  me  as  much, 
and  I  thought  no  less :  that  flattering  tongue  of 
yours  won  me :  'tis  but  one  cast  away,  and  so, 
come,  death  !     Two  o'clock  is  your  hour  ? 

Or!.  Ay,  sweet  Rosalind. 

Ros.  By  my  troth,  and  in  good  earnest,  and  so  God 
mend  me,  and  by  all  pretty  oaths  that  are  not 
dangerous,  if  you  break  one  jot  of  your  promise 
or  come  one  minute  behind  your  hour,  I  will  190 
think  you  the  most  pathetical  break-promise,  and 
the  most  hollow  lover,  and  the  most  unworthy 
of  her  yqp  call  Rosalind,  that  may  be  chosen  out 
of  the  gross  band  of  the  unfaithful :  therefore 
beware  my  censure  and  keep  your  promise. 

Or!.  With  no  less  religion  than  if  thou  wert  in- 
deed my  Rosalind  :   so  adieu. 

Ros.  Well,  Time  is  the  old  justice  that  examines 
all  such  offenders,  and  let  Time  try  :  adieu. 

[Exit  Orlando. 

Ccl.  You  have  simply  misused  our  sex  in  your  love-  200 
prate:    we  must  have  your  doublet  and  hose 
plucked  over  your  head,  and  show  the  world 
what  the  bird  hath  done  to  her  own  nest. 

Ros.  O  coz,  coz,  coz,  my  pretty  little  coz,  that  thou 
didst  know  how  many  fathom  deep  I  am  in  love ! 
But  it  cannot  be  sounded :  my  affection  hath  an 
unknown  bottom,  like  the  bay  of  Portugal. 

Cel.  Or  rather,  bottomless ;   that  as  fast  as  you  pour 
affection  in,  it  runs  out. 
103 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Ros.  No,  that  same  wicked  bastard  of  Venus  that  210 
was  begot  of  thought,  conceived  of  spleen,  and 
born  of  madness,  that  bhnd  rascally  boy  that 
abuses  every  one's  eyes  because  his  own  are  out, 
let  him  be  judge  how  deep  I  am  in  love.  I  '11 
tell  thee,  Aliena,  I  cannot  be  out  of  the  sight  of 
Orlando :  I  '11  go  find  a  shadow  and  sigh  till  he 
come. 

Cel.  And  I  '11  sleep.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

The  forest. 
Enter  Jaqncs,  Lords,  and  Foresters. 

Jaq.  Which  is  he  that  killed  the  deer? 

A  Lord.  Sir,  it  was  I. 

Jaq.  Let 's  present  him  to  the  Duke,  like  a  Roman 
conqueror ;  and  it  would  do  well  to  set  the 
deer's  horns  upon  his  head,  for  a  branch  of  vic- 
tory. Have  you  no  song,  forester,  for  this  pur- 
pose? 

For.  Yes,  sir. 

Jaq.  Sing  it :    'tis  no  matter  how  it  be  in  tune,  so  it 

make  noise  enough.  10 

Song. 

For.         What  shall  he  have  that  kill'd  the  deer  ? 
His  leather  skin  and  horns  to  wear. 
Then  sing  him  home : 

[The  rest  shall  bear  this  burden. 

104 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

Take  thou  no  scorn  to  wear  the  horn ; 
It  was  a  crest  ere  thou  wast  born : 

Thy  father's  father  wore  it, 

And  thy  father  bore  it : 
The  horn,  the  horn,  the  lusty  horn 
Is  not  a  thing  to  laugh  to  scorn.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  III. 

The  forest. 
Enter  Rosalind  and  Celia. 

Ros.  How  say  you  now?     Is  it  not  past  two  o'clock? 

and  here  much  Orlando  ! 
Cel.  I  warrant  you,  with  pure  love  and  troubled  brain, 

he  hath  ta'en  his  bow  and  arrows  and  is  gone 

forth  to  sleep.     Look,  who  comes  here. 

Enter  Sihius. 

Sil,  My  errand  Is  to  you,  fair  youth ; 

My  gentle  Phebe  bid  me  give  you  this : 

I  know  not  the  contents ;  but,  as  I  guess 

By  the  stern  brow  and  waspish  action 

Which  she  did  use  as  she  was  writing  of  it,  lo 

It  bears  an  angry  tenour  :   pardon  me ; 

I  am  but  as  a  guiltless  messenger. 

Ros.  Patience  herself  would  startle  at  this  letter 
And  play  the  swaggerer ;  bear  this,  bear  all : 
She  says  I  am  not  fair,  that  I  lack  manners ; 
She  calls  me  proud,  and  that  she  could  not  love  me, 
Were  man  as  rare  as  phoenix.     'Od  's  my  will ! 
Her  love  is  not  the  hare  that  I  do  hunt : 
Why  writes  she  so  to  me  ?     Well,  shepherd,  well, 

105 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

This  is  a  letter  of  your  own  device.       •  20 

Sil.  No,  I  protest,  I  know  not  the  contents : 

Phebe  did  write  it. 
Ros.  Come,  come,  you  are  a  fool. 

And  turn'd  into  the  extremity  of  love. 
I  saw  her  hand :   she  has  a  leathern  hand, 
A  freestone-colour'd  hand ;   I  verily  did  think 
That  her  old  gloves  were  on,  but  'twas  her  hands  : 
She  has  a  huswife's  hand ;   but  that 's  no  matter : 
I  say  she  never  did  invent  this  letter ; 
This  is  a  man's  invention  and  his  hand. 
Sil.  Sure,  it  is  hers.  30 

Ros.  Why,  'tis  a  boisterous  and  a  cruel  style, 

A  style  for  challengers ;   why,  she  defies  me, 
Like  Turk  to  Christian :   women's  gentle  brain 
Could  not  drop  forth  such  giant-rude  invention, 
Such  Ethiope  words,  blacker  in  their  effect 
Than  in  their  countenance.     Will  you  hear  the  letter  ? 
Sil.  So  please  you,  for  I  never  heard  it  yet ; 
Yet  heard  too  much  of  Phebe's  cruelty. 
Ros.  She  Phebes  me :  mark  how  the  tyrant  writes. 

[Reads]   Art  thou  god  to  shepherd  turn'd,  40 

That  a  maiden's  heart  hath  burn'd? 
Can  a  woman  rail  thus  ? 
Sil.  Call  you  this  railing? 
Ros.    [Reads] 

Why,  thy  godhead  laid  apart, 
Warr'st  thou  with  a  woman's  heart  ? 
Did  you  ever  hear  such  railing  ? 

Whiles  the  eye  of  man  did  woo  me. 
That  could  do  no  vengeance  to  me. 
Meaning  me  a  beast. 
106 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

If  the  scorn  of  your  bright  eyne  50 

Have  power  to  raise  such  love  in  mine, 

Alack,  in  me  what  strange  effect 

Would  they  work  in  mild  aspect! 

Whiles  you  chide  me,  I  did  love; 

How  then  might  your  prayers  move ! 

He  that  brings  this  love  to  thee 

Little  knows  this  love  in  me : 

And  by  him  seal  up  thy  mind ; 

Whether  that  thy  youth  and  kind  . 

Will  the  faithful  offer  take  60 

Of  me  and  all  that  I  can  make ; 

Or  else  by  him  my  love  deny, 

And  then  I  '11  study  how  to  die. 
Sil.  Call  you  this  chiding? 
Ccl.  Alas,  poor  shepherd ! 

Ros.  Do  you  pity  him  ?  no,  he  deserves  no  ^ity. 
Wilt  thou  love  such  a  woman  ?  What,  to  make 
thee  an  instrument  and  play  false  strains  upon 
thee !  not  to  be  endured !  Well,  go  your  way 
to  her,  for  I  see  love  hath  made  thee  a  tame  70 
snake,  and  say  this  to  her :  that  if  she  love  me,  I 
charge  her  to  love  thee;  if  she  will  not,  I  will 
never  have  her  unless  thou  entreat  for  her.  If 
you  be  a  true  lover,  hence,  and  not  a  word ;  for 
here  comes  more  company.  [Exit  Silvins. 

Enter  Oliver. 

OH.  Good  morrow,  fair  ones  :  pray  you,  if  you  know, 
Where  in  the  purlieus  of  this  forest  stands 
A  sheep-cote  fenced  about  with  olive-trees? 

Cel.  West  of  this  place,  down  in  the  neighbour  bottom : 

107 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

The  rank  of  osiers  by  the  murmuring  stream  80 

Left  on  your  right  hand  brings  you  to  the  place. 
But  at  this  hour  the  house  doth  keep  itself ; 
There  's  none  within. 

Oli.  If  that  an  eye  may  profit  by  a  tongue, 
Then  should  I  know  you  by  description  ; 
Such  garments  and  such  years :  '  The  boy  is  fair, 
Of  female  favour,  and  bestows  himself 
Like  a  ripe  sister :   the  woman  low. 
And  browner  than  her  brother.'     Are  not  you 
The  owner  of  the  house  I  did  enquire  for  ?  90 

Cel.  It  is  no  boast,  being  ask'd,  to  say  we  are. 

Oli.  Orlando  doth  commend  him  to  you  both. 
And  to  that  youth  he  calls  his  Rosalind 
He  sends  this  bloody  napkin.     Are  you  he  ? 

Ros.  I  am ;  what  must  we  understand  by  this  ? 

Oli.  Son|e  of  my  shame ;  if  you  will  know  of  me 
What  man  I  am,  and  how,  and  why,  and  where 
This  handkercher  was  stain'd. 

Cel.  I  pray  you,  tell  it. 

Oli.  When  last  the  young  Orlando  parted  from  you 

He  left  a  promise  to  return  again  100 

Within  an  hour,  and  pacing  through  the  forest, 

Chewing  the  food  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy, 

Lo,  what  befel !   he  threw  his  eye  aside. 

And  mark  what  object  did  present  itself: 

Under  an  oak,  whose  boughs  were  moss'd  with  age 

And  high  top  bald  with  dry  antiquity, 

A  wretched  ragged  man,  o'ergrown  with  hair, 

Lay  sleeping  on  his  back :   about  his  neck 

A  green  and  gilded  snake  had  wreathed  itself. 

Who  with  her  head  nimble  in  threats  approach'd  no 

108 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

The  opening  of  his  mouth  ;   but  suddenly, 
Seeing  Orlando,  it  unlink'd  itself. 
And  with  indented  glides  did  slip  away 
Into  a  bush :   under  which  bush's  shade 
A  Honess,  with  udders  all  drawn  dry. 
Lay  couching,  head  on  ground,  with  catlike  watch, 
When  that  the  sleeping  man  should  stir ;   for  'tis 
The  royal  disposition  of  that  beast 
To  prey  on  nothing  that  doth  seem  as  dead : 
This  seen,  Orlando  did  approach  the  man  120 

And  found  it  was  his  brother,  his  elder  brother. 
Cel.  O,  I  have  heard  him  speak  of  that  same  brother. 
And  he  did  render  him  the  most  unnatural 
That  lived  amongst  men. 
OIL  And  well  he  might  so  do, 

For  well  I  know  he  was  unnatural. 
Ros.  But,  to  Orlando  :   did  he  leave  him  there,     _. 

Food  to  the  suck'd  and  hungry  lioness  ? 
Oli.  Twice  did  he  turn  his  back  and  purposed  so; 
But  kindness,  nobler  ever  than  revenge, 
And  nature,  stronger  than  his  just  occasion,  130 

Made  him  give  battle  to  the  lioness, 
Who  quickly  fell  before  him :   in  which  hurtling 
From  miserable  slumber  I  awaked. 
Cel.  Are  you  his  brother  ? 

Ros.  Was  't  you  he  rescued  ? 

Cel.  A\'as  't  you  that  did  so  oft  contrive  to  kill  him  ? 
Oli.  'Twas  I ;  but  'tis  not  I :   I  do  not  shame 

To  tell  you  what  I  was,  since  my  conversion 
So  sweetly  tastes,  being  the  thing  I  am. 
Ros.  But,  for  the  bloody  napkin  ? 
OH.  By  and  by. 

109 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

When  from  the  first  to  last  betwixt  us  two  140 

Tears  our  recountments  had  most  kindly  bathed, 

As  how  I  came  into  that  desert  place ; 

In  brief,  he  led  me  to  the  gentle  Duke, 

Who  gave  me  fresh  array  and  entertainment, 

Committing  me  unto  my  brother's  love; 

Who  led  me  instantly  unto  his  cave, 

There  stripped  himself,  and  here  upon  his  arm 

The  lioness  had  torn  some  flesh  away. 

Which  all  this  while  had  bled ;  and  now  he  fainted 

And  cried,  in  fainting,  upon  Rosalind.  150 

Brief,  I  recover'd  him,  bound  up  his  wound ; 

And,  after  some  small  space,  being  strong  at  heart. 

He  sent  me  hither,  stranger  as  I  am, 

To  tell  this  story,  that  you  might  excuse 

His  broken  promise,  and  to  give  this  napkin, 

Dyed  in  his  blood,  unto  the  shepherd  youth 

That  he  in  sport  doth  call  his  Rosalind. 

[Rosalind  szvoons. 

Cel.  Why,  how  now,  Ganymede !   sweet  Ganymede ! 

Oil.  Many  will  swoon  when  they  do  look  on  blood. 

Ccl.  There  is  more  in  it.     Cousin  Ganymede!  160 

Oli.  Look,  he  recovers. 

Ros.  I  would  I  were  at  home. 

Cel.  We  '11  lead  you  thither. 

I  pray  you,  will  you  take  him  by  the  arm? 

Oli.  Be  of  good  cheer,  youth :  you  a  man !  you  lack 
a  man's  heart. 

Ros.  I  do  so,  I  confess  it.  Ah,  sirrah,  a  body 
would  think  this  was  well  counterfeited!  I 
pray  you,  tell  your  brother  how  well  I  counter- 
feited.    Heigh-ho ! 

no 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

OH.  This  was   not  counterfeit:    there  is  too  great  170 
testimony  in  your  complexion  that  it  was  a  pas- 
sion of  earnest. 

Ros.  Counterfeit,  I  assure  you. 

OH.  Well  then,  take  a  good  heart  and  counterfeit  to 
be  a  man. 

Ros.  So  I  do:    but,  i'  faith,  I  should  have  been  a 
woman  by  right. 

Cel.  Come,   you   look  paler   and   paler:    pray   you, 
draw  homewards.     Good  sir,  go  with  us. 

OH.  That  will  I,  for  I  must  bear  answer  back  180 

How  you  excuse  my  brother,  Rosalind. 

Ros.  I  shall  devise  something :  but,  I  pray  you,  com- 
mend my  counterfeiting  to  him.     Will  you  go? 

[Exeunt. 

ACT  FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

The  forest. 
Enter  Touchstone  and  Audrey. 

Touch.  We    shall    find    a   time,    Audrey;     patience, 

gentle  Audrey. 
And.  Faith,  the  priest  was  good  enough,  for  all  the 

old  gentleman's  saying. 
Touch.  A  most  wicked  Sir  Oliver,  Audrey,  a  most 

vile   Martext.     But,   Audrey,   there  is  a  youth 

here  in  the  forest  lays  claim  to  you. 
Aud.  Ay,  I  know  who  'tis :  he  hath  no  interest  in  me 

in  the  world :  here  comes  the  man  you  mean. 
Touch.  It  is  meat  and  drink  to  me  to  see  a  clown :  by     10 

III 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

my  troth,  we  that  have  good  wits  have  much  to 
answer  for;  we  shall  be  flouting;  we  cannot 
hold. 

Enter  William. 

Will.  Good  even,  Audrey. 

And.  God  ye  good  even,  William. 

Will.  And  good  even  to  you,  sir. 

Touch.  Good  even,  gentle  friend.  Cover  thy  head, 
cover  thy  head;  nay,  prithee,  be  covered. 
How  old  are  you,  friend? 

Will.  Five  and  twenty,  sir.  20 

Touch.  A  ripe  age.     Is  thv  name  William  ? 

Will.    William,  sir. 

Touch.  A  fair  name.     Wast  born  i'  the  forest  here  ? 

Will.  Ay,  sir,  I  thank  God. 

Touch.  '  Thank  God  ' ;   a  good  answer.     Art  rich  ? 

Will.  Faith,  sir,  so  so. 

Touch.  'So  so '  is  good,  very  good,  very  excellent 
good;  and  yet  it  is  not;  it  is  but  so  so.  Art 
thou  wise? 

Will.  Ay,  sir,  I  have  a  pretty  wit.  30 

Touch.  Why,  thou  sayest  well.  I  do  now  remember 
a  saying,  *  The  fool  doth  think  he  is  wise,  but 
the  wise  man  knows  himself  to  be  a  fool.'  The 
heathen  philosopher,  when  he  had  a  desire  to  eat 
a  grape,  would  open  his  lips  when  he  put  it  into 
his  mouth ;  meaning  thereby  that  grapes  were 
made  to  eat  and  lips  to  open.  You  do  love  this 
maid? 

Will.  I  do,  sir. 

Touch.  Give  me  your  hand.     Art  thou  learned  ?  40 

Will.  No,  sir. 

112 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

Touch.  Then  learn  this  of  me :  to  have,  is  to  have ; 
for  it  is  a  figure  in  rhetoric  that  drink,  being 
poured  out  of  a  cup  into  a  glass,  by  filling  the 
one  doth  empty  the  other;  for  all  your  writers 
do  consent  that  ipse  is  he :  now,  you  are  not 
ipse,  for  I  am  he. 

IVUl  Which  he,  sir? 

Touch.  He,  sir,  that  must  marry  this  woman.  There- 
fore, you  clown,  abandon, — which  is  in  the  vul-  50 
gar  leave, — the  society, — which  in  the  boorish  is 
company, — of  this  female, — which  in  the  com- 
mon is  woman ;  which  together  is,  abandon  the 
society  of  this  female,  or,  clown,  thou  perishest ; 
or,  to  thy  better  understanding,  diest ;  or,  to  wit, 
I  kill  thee,  make  thee  away,  translate  thy  life  into 
death,  thy  liberty  into  bondage:  I  will  deal  in 
poison  with  thee,  or  in  bastinado,  or  in  steel; 
I  will  bandy  with  thee  in  faction  ;  I  will  o'er- 
run  thee  with  policy ;  I  will  kill  thee  a  hundred  60 
and  fifty  ways :  therefore  tremble,  and  depart. 

Atid.  Do,  good  William. 

Will,  God  rest  you  merry,  sir.  {Exit, 

Enter  Corin, 

Cor.  Our   master   and  mistress   seeks   you ;     come, 

away,  away! 

Touch.  Trip,  Audrey !  trip,  Audrey !     I  attend,   I 

attend.  [Exeunt. 


113 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Scene  II. 

The  forest. 
Enter  Orlando  and  Oliver. 

Orl.  Is  't  possible  that  on  so  little  acquaintance  you 
should  like  her?  that  but  seeing  you  should 
love  her?  and  loving  woo?  and,  wooing,  she 
should  grant?  and  will  you  persever  to  enjoy 
her? 

Oli.  Neither  call  the  giddiness  of  it  in  question,  the 
poverty  of  her,  the  small  acquaintance,  my  sud- 
den wooing,  nor  her  sudden  consenting;  but 
say  with  me,  I  love  Aliena  ;  say  with  her  that  she 
loves  me;  consent  with  both  that  we  may  enjoy  lo 
each  other:  it  shall  be  to  your  good;  for  my 
father's  house  and  all  the  revenue  that  was  old 
Sir  Rowland's  will  I  estate  upon  you,  and  here 
live  and  die  a  shepherd. 

Orl.  You  have  my  consent.  Let  your  wedding  be 
to-morrow :  thither  will  I  invite  the  Duke  and 
all 's  contented  followers.  Go  you  and  prepare 
Aliena ;   for  look  you,  here  comes  my  Rosalind. 

Enter  Rosalind. 

Ros.  God  save  you,  brother.  20 

Oli.  And  you,  fair  sister.  [Exit. 

Ros.  O,  my  dear  Orlando,  how  it  grieves  me  to  see 

thee  wear  thy  heart  in  a  scarf ! 
Orl.  It  is  my  arm. 
Ros.  I  thought  thy  heart  had  been  wounded  with  the 

claws  of  a  lion. 

114 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  V.  Sc.  ii^ 

Orl.  Wounded  it  is,  but  with  the  eyes  of  a  lady. 

Ros.  Did  your  brother  tell  you  how  I  counterfeited 
to  swoon  when  he  showed  me  your  handker- 
cher  ?  30 

Orl.  Ay,  and  greater  wonders  than  that. 

Ros.  O,  I  know  where  you  are :  nay,  'tis  true :  there 
was  never  any  thing  so  sudden  but  the  fight  of 
two  rams,  and  Caesar's  thrasonical  brag  of  *  I 
came,  saw,  and  overcame : '  for  your  brother 
and  my  sister  no  sooner  met  but  they  looked; 
no  sooner  looked  but  they  loved ;  no  sooner 
loved  but  they  sighed  ;  no  sooner  sighed  but  they 
asked  one  another  the  reason ;  no  sooner  knew 
the  reason  but  they  sought  the  remedy :  and  in  40 
these  degrees  have  they  made  a  pair  of  stairs  to 
marriage  which  they  will  climb  incontinent,  or 
else  be  incontinent  before  marriage :  they  are  in 
the  very  wrath  of  love  and  they  will  together; 
clubs  cannot  part  them. 

Orl.  They  shall  be  married  to-morrow,  and  I  will  bid 
the  Duke  to  the  nuptial.  But,  O,  how  bitter 
a  thing  it  is  to  look  into  happiness  through  an- 
other man's  eyes !  By  so  much  the  more  shall 
I  to-morrow  be  at  the  height  of  heart-heaviness,  50 
by  how  much  I  shall  think  my  brother  happy  in 
having  what  he  wishes  for. 

Ros.  Why  then,  to-morrow  I  cannot  serve  your  turn 
for  Rosalind? 

Orl.  I  can  live  no  longer  by  thinking. 

Ros.  I  will  weary  you  then  no  longer  with  idle  talk- 
ing. Know  of  me  then,  for  now  I  speak  to  some 
purpose,   that   I   know   you   are   a   gentleman 

115 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

of  good  conceit :  I  speak  not  this  that  you  should 
bear  a  good  opinion  of  my  knowledge,  insomuch  60 
I  say  I  know  you  are ;  neither  do  I  labour  for  a 
greater  esteem  than  may  in  some  little  measure 
draw  a  belief  from  you,  to  do  yourself  good  and 
not  to  grace  me.  Believe  then,  if  you  please, 
that  I  can  do  strange  things :  I  have,  since  I 
was  three  year  old,  conversed  with  a  magician, 
most  profound  in  his  art  and  yet  not  damnable. 
If  you  do  love  Rosalind  so  near  the  heart  as  your 
gesture  cries  it  out,  when  your  brother  marries 
Aliena,  shall  you  marry  her :  I  know  into  what  70 
straits  of  fortune  she  is  driven ;  and  it  is  not  im- 
possible to  me,  if  it  appear  not  inconvenient  to 
you,  to  set  her  before  your  eyes  to-morrow  hu- 
man as  she  is  and  without  any  danger. 

Orl.  Speakest  thou  in  sober  meanings? 

Ros.  By   my   life,    I    do ;     which     I    tender    dearly, 
though  I  say  I  am  a  magician.     Therefore,  put 
you  in  your  best  array ;    bid  your  friends ;    for 
if  you  will  be  married  to-morrow,  you  shall;     80 
and  to  Rosalind,  if  you  will. 

Enter  Sik'ins  and  Phche. 

Look,  here  comes  a  lover  of  mine  and  a  lover  of  hers. 
Phe.  Youth,  you  have  done  me  much  ungentleness, 

To  show  the  letter  that  I  writ  to  you. 
Ros.  I  care  not  if  I  have :   it  is  my  study 

To  seem  despiteful  and  ungentle  to  you : 

You  are  there  followed  by  a  faithful  shepherd  ; 

Look  upon  him,  love  him;    he  worships  you. 
116 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

Phe.  Good  shepherd,  tell  this  youth  what  'tis  to  love. 

Sil  It  is  to  be  all  made  of  sighs  and  tears  •  90 

And  so  am  I  for  Phebe. 

Phe.  And  I  for  Ganymede. 

Orl  And  I  for  Rosalind. 

Ros.  And  I  for  no  woman. 

Sil.  It  is  to  be  all  made  of  faith  and  service ; 
And  so  am  I  for  Phebe. 

Phe.  And  so  am  I  for  Ganymede. 

Orl.  And  I  for  Rosalind. 

Ros.  And  I  for  no  woman. 

Sil.  It  is  to  be  all  made  of  fantasy,  lOO 

All  made  of  passion,  and  all  made  of  wishes ; 
All  adoration,  duty,  and  observance, 
All  humbleness,  all  patience,  and  impatience, 
All  purity,  all  trial,  all  observance; 
And  so  am  I  for  Phebe. 

Phe.  And  so  am  I  for  Ganymede. 

Orl.  And  so  am  I  for  Rosalind. 

Ros.  And  so  am  I  for  no  woman. 

Phe.  If  this  be  so,  why  blame  you  me  to  love  you  ? 

Sil.  If  this  be  so,  why  blame  you  me  to  love  you?       IIO 

Orl.  If  this  be  so,  why  blame  you  me  to  love  you? 

Ros.  Who  do  you  speak  to,  '  Why  blame  you  me  to 
love  you  ? ' 

Orl.  To  her  that  is  not  here,  nor  doth  not  hear. 

Ros.  Pray  you,  no  more  of  this  ;  'tis  like  the  howling" 
of  Irish  wolves  against  the  moon.  [To  SiL^  I 
will  help  you,  if  I  can:  [To  Phe.]  I  would  love 
you,  if  I  could.  To-morrow  meet  me  all  to- 
gether. [To  Phe.]  I  will  marry  you,  if  ever  I 
marry  woman,  and  I  '11  be  married  to-morrow :  120 

117 


Act  V.  Sc.  lii.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

[To  OrL]  I  will  satisfy  you,  if  ever  I  satisfied 
man,  and  you  shall  be  married  to-morrow :  [To 
SiL]  I  will  content  you,  if  what  pleases  you 
contents  you,  and  you  shall  be  married  to-mor- 
row. [To  Orl.]  As  you  love  Rosalind,  meet: 
[To  SiL]  as  you  love  Phebe,  meet :  and  as  I  love 
no  woman,  I  HI  meet.  So,  fare  you  well :  I  have 
left  you  commands. 
SiL  I  '11  not  fail,  if  I  live. 

Phe.  Nor  I.  130 

OrL  Nor  I.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  III. 

The  forest. 
Enter  Touchstone  and  Audrey. 

Touch.  To-morrow  is  the  joyful  day,  Audrey;  to- 
morrow will  we  be  married. 

Aud.  I  do  desire  it  with  all  my  heart;  and  I  hope 
it  is  no  dishonest  desire  to  desire  to  be  a  woman 
of  the  world.  Here  come  two  of  the  banished 
Duke's  pages. 

Enter  two  Pages. 

First  Page.  Well  met,  honest  gentleman. 

Touch.  By  my  troth,  well  met.     Come,  sit,  sit,  and  a 

song. 
Sec.  Page.  We  are  for  you :   sit  i'  the  middle.  10 

First  Page.  Shall  we  clap  into 't  roundly,  without 

hawking  or  spitting  or  saying  we  are  hoarse, 

which  are  the  only  prologues  to  a  bad  voice? 
Sec.  Page.  V  faith,  i'  faith ;   and  both  in  ^a  tune,  like 

two  gipsies  on  a  horse. 

118 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Song. 

It  was  a  lover  and  his  lass, 

With  a  hey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino, 
That  o'er  the  green  corn-field  did  pass 

In  the  spring  time,  the  only  pretty  ring  time, 
When  birds  do  sing,  hey  ding  a  ding,  ding:  20 

Sweet  lovers  love  the  spring. 

Between  the  acres  of  the  rye, 

With  a  hey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino, 

These  pretty  country  folks  would  lie, 
In  spring  time,  &c. 

This  carol  they  began  that  hour, 

With  a  hey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino. 

How  that  a  life  was  but  a  flower 
In  spring  time,  &c. 

And  therefore  take  the  present  time,  30 

With  a  hey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino; 

For  love  is  crowned  with  the  prime 
In  spring  time,  &c. 

Touch.  Truly,  young  gentlemen,  though  there  was  no 
great  matter  in  the  ditty,  yet  the  note  was  very 
untuneable. 

First  Page.  You  are  deceived,  sir :   we  kept  time,  we 
lost  not  our  time. 

Touch.  By  my  troth,  yes  ;   I  count  it  but  time  lost  to 

hear  such  a  foolish  song.     God  be  wi'  you ;  and     40 
God  mend  your  voices  !     Come,  Audrey.        [Exeunt. 


119 


Act  V.  Sc.  iv.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Scene  IV. 

The  forest. 

Enter  Duke  senior,  Amiens,  J  agues,  Orlando,  Oliver, 
and  Celia. 

Duke  S.  Dost  thou  believe,  Orlando,  that  the  boy 
Can  do  all  this  that  he  hath  promised  ? 

Orl.  I  sometimes  do  believe,  and  sometimes  do  not ; 
As  those  that  fear  they  hope,  and  know  they  fear. 

Enter  Rosalind,  Silviiis,  and  Phebe. 

Ros.  Patience  once  more,  whiles  our  compact  is  urged : 
You  say,  if  I  bring  in  your  Rosalind, 
You  will  bestow  her  on  Orlando  here? 

Duke  S.  That  would  I,  had  I  kingdoms  to  give  with  her. 

Ros.  And  you  say,  you  will  have  her,  when  I  bring  her. 

Orl.  That  would  I,  were  I  of  all  the  kingdoms  king.     lo 

Ros.  You  say,  you  '11  marry  me,  if  I  be  willing  ? 

Phe.  That  will  I,  should  I  die  the  hour  after. 

Ros.  But  if  you  do  refuse  to  marry  me, 

You'll  give  yourself  to  this  most  faithful  shepherd? 

Phe.  So  is  the  bargain. 

Ros.  You  say,  that  you  '11  have  Phebe,  if  she  will? 

Sil.  Though  to  have  her  and  death  were  both  one  thing. 

Ros.  I  have  promised  to  make  all  this  matter  even. 

Keep  you  your  word,  O  Duke,  to  give  your  daughter; 
You  yours,  Orlando,  to  receive  his  daughter :         20 
Keep  your  word,  Phebe,  that  you  '11  marry  me. 
Or  else  refusing  me,  to  wed  this  shepherd : 
Keep  your  word,  Silvius,  that  you  '11  marry  her, 
If  she  refuse  me :   and  from  hence  I  go, 
To  make  these  doubts  all  even. 

[Exeunt  Rosalind  and  Celia. 

T20 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  V.  Sc.  iv. 

Duke  S.  I  do  remember  in  this  shepherd  boy 

Some  lively  touches  of  my  daughter's  favour. 

Orl.  My  lord,  the  first  time  that  I  ever  saw  him 
Methought  he  was  a  brother  to  your  daughter : 
But,  my  good  lord,  this  boy  is  forest-born,  30 

And  hath  been  tutor'd  in  the  rudiments 
Of  many  desperate  studies  by  his  uncle. 
Whom  he  reports  to  be  a  great  magician, 
Obscured  in  the  circle  of  this  forest. 

Enter  Touchstone  and  Audrey. 

Jaq.  There  is,  sure,  another  flood  toward,  and  these 
couples  are  coming  to  the  ark.  Here  comes  a 
pair  of  very  strange  beasts,  which  in  all  tongues 
are  called  fools. 

Touch.   Salutation  and  greeting  to  you  all ! 

Jaq.  Good  my  lord,  bid  him  welcome :    this  is  the     40 
motley-minded  gentleman  that  I  have  so  often 
met  in  the  forest :    he  hath  been  a  courtier,  he 
swears. 

Touch.  If  any  man  doubt  that,  let  him  put  me  to  my 
purgation.  I  have  trod  a  measure ;  I  have 
flattered  a  lady;  I  have  been  politic  with  my 
friend,  smooth  with  mine  enemy ;  I  have  un- 
done three  tailors ;  I  have  had  four  quarrels, 
and  like  to  have  fought  one. 

Jaq.  And  how  was  that  ta'en  up?  50 

Touch.  Faith,  we  met,  and  found  the  quarrel  was 
upon  the  seventh  cause. 

Jaq,  How  seventh  cause?  Good  my  lord,  like  this 
fellow. 

Duke  S.  I  like  him  very  well. 

121 


Act  V.  Sc.  iv.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Touch.  God  'ild  you,  sir;  I  desire  you  of  the  like. 
I  press  in  here,  sir,  amongst  the  rest  of  the 
country  copulatives,  to  swear  and  to  forswear; 
according  as  marriage  binds  and  blood  breaks  :  a 
poor  virgin,  sir,  an  ill-favoured  thing,  sir,  but  60 
mine  own ;  a  poor  humour  of  mine,  sir,  to  take 
that  that  no  man  else  will :  rich  honesty  dwells 
like  a  miser,  sir,  in  a  poor  house ;  as  your  pearl 
in  your  foul  oyster. 

Duke  S.  By  my  faith,  he  is  very  swift  and  senten- 
tious. 

Touch.  According  to  the  fool's  bolt,  sir,  and  such 
dulcet  diseases. 

Jaq.  But,  for  the  seventh  cause;    how  did  you  find 
the  quarrel  on  the  seventh  cause  ? 

Touch,  Upon  a  lie  seven  times  removed : — bear  your  70 
body  more  seeming,  Audrey: — as  thus,  sir.  I 
did  dislike  the  cut  of  a  certain  courtier's  beard: 
he  sent  me  word,  if  I  said  his  beard  was  not  cut 
well,  he  was  in  the  mind  it  was :  this  is  called 
the  Retort  Courteous.  If  I  sent  him  word 
again  '  it  was  not  well  cut,'  he  would  send  me 
word,  he  cut  it  to  please  himself:  this  is  called 
the  Quip  IModest.  If  again  '  it  was  not  well  cut,' 
he  disabled  my  judgement:  this  is  called  the 
Reply  Churlish.  If  again  '  it  was  not  well  cut,'  80 
he  would  answer,  I  spake  not  true:  this  is 
called  the  Reproof  Valiant.  If  again  '  it  was  not 
well  cut,'  he  would  say,  I  lie :  this  is  called  the 
Countercheck  Quarrelsome :  and  so  to  the  Lie 
Circumstantial  and  the  Lie  Direct. 

Jaq.  And  how  oft  did  you  say  his  beard  was  not  well 
cut? 

122 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  V.  Sc.  iv. 

Touch.  I  durst  go  no  further  than  the  Lie  Circum- 
stantial, nor  he  durst  not  give  me  the  Lie  Direct ; 
and  so  we  measured  swords  and  parted.  90 

Jaq.  Can  you  nominate  in  order  now  the  degrees  of 
the  He  ? 

Touch.  O  sir,  we  quarrel  in  print,  by  the  book;  as 
you  have  books  for  good  manners :  I  will  name 
you  the  degrees.  The  first,  the  Retort  Cour- 
teous ;  the  second,  the  Quip  Modest ;  the  third, 
the  Reply  Churlish;  the  fourth,  the  Reproof 
Valiant;  the  fifth,  the  Countercheck  Quarrel- 
some; the  sixth,  the  Lie  with  Circumstance; 
the  seventh,  the  Lie  Direct.  All  these  you  may  100 
avoid  but  the  Lie  Direct;  and  you  may  avoid 
that  too,  with  an  If.  I  knew  when  seven  jus- 
tices could  not  take  up  a  quarrel,  but  when  the 
parties  were  met  themselves,  one  of  them 
thought  but  of  an  If,  as,  '  If  you  said  so,  then  I 
said  so ' ;  and  they  shook  hands  and  swore 
brothers.  Your  If  is  the  only  peace-maker; 
much  virtue  in  If. 

Jaq.  Is  not  this  a  rare   fellow,   my  lord  ?    he 's  as 

good  at  any  thing  and  yet  a  fool.  1 10 

Duke  S.  He  uses  his  folly  like  a  stalking-horse  and 
under  the  presentation  of  that  he  shoots  his  wit. 

Enter  Hymen,  Rosalind,  and  Celia. 

Still  Music. 

Hym.  Then  is  there  mirth  in  heaven. 

When  earthly  things  made  even 
Atone  together 

123 


Act  V.  Sc.  iv.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Good  Duke,  receive  thy  daughter : 
Hymen  from  heaven  brought  her, 

Yea,  brought  her  hither, 
That  thou  mightst  join  her  hand  with  his     120 
Whose  heart  within  his  bosom  is. 
Ros.  To  you  I  give  myself,  for  I  am  yours. 
To  you  I  give  myself,  for  I  am  yours. 
Duke  S.  li  there  be  truth  in  sight,  you  are  my  daughter. 
OrL  If  there  be  truth  in  sight,  you  are  my  Rosalind. 
Phe.         If  sight  and  shape  be  true. 
Why  then,  my  love  adieu ! 
Ros.  I  '11  have  no  father,  if  you  be  not  he : 
I  '11  have  no  husband,  if  you  be  not  he : 
Nor  ne'er  wed  woman,  if  you  be  not  she:  130 

Hym.  Peace,  ho !   I  bar  confusion : 
'Tis  I  must  make  conclusion 

Of  these  most  strange  events : 
Here  's  eight  that  must  take  hands 
To  join  in  Hymen's  bands. 

If  truth  holds  true  contents. 
You  and  you  no  cross  shall  part : 
You  and  you  are  heart  in  heart : 
You  to  his  love  must  accord. 

Or  have  a  woman  to  your  lord :  140 

You  and  you  are  sure  together, 
As  the  winter  to  foul  weather. 
Whiles  a  wedlock-hymn  we  sing. 
Feed  yourselves  with  questioning ; 
That  reason  wonder  may  diminish. 
How  thus  we  met,  and  these  things  finish. 


124 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Act  V.  Sc.  iv. 

Song. 

Wedding  is  great  Juno's  crown : 

O  blessed  bond  of  board  and  bed ! 
'Tis  Hymen  peoples  every  town ; 

High  wedlock  then  be  honoured  :  150 

Honour,  high  honour  and  renown, 
To  Hymen,  god  of  every  town ! 

Duke  S.  O  my  dear  niece,  welcome  thou  art  to  me ! 

Even  daughter,  welcome,  in  no  less  degree. 
PIic.  I  will  not  eat  my  word,  now  thou  art  mine ; 

Thy  faith  my  fancy  to  thee  doth  combine. 

Ejtter  Jaqties  de  Boys. 

Jaq.  de  B.  Let  me  have  audience  for  a  word  or  two : 
I  am  the  second  son  of  old  Sir  Rowland, 
That  bring  these  tidings  to  this  fair  assembly. 
Duke  Frederick,  hearing  how  that  every  day         160 
Men  of  great  worth  resorted  to  this  forest, 
Address'd  a  mighty  power ;   which  were  on  foot, 
In  his  own  conduct,  purposely  to  take 
His  brother  here  and  put  him  to  the  sword : 
And  to  the  skirts  of  this  wild  wood  he  came ; 
Where  meeting  with  an  old  religious  man. 
After  some  question  with  him,  was  converted 
Both  from  his  enterprise  and  from  the  world ; 
His  crown  bequeathing  to  his  banish'd  brother. 
And  all  their  lands  restored  to  them  again  170 

That  were  with  him  exiled.     This  to  be  true, 
I  do  engage  my  life. 

Duke  S.  Welcome,  young  man  ; 

125 


Act  V.  Sc.  iv.  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Thou  offer'st  fairly  to  thy  brothers'  wedding: 

To  one  his  lands  withheld ;   and  to  the  other 

A  land  itself  at  large,  a  potent  dukedom. 

First,  in  this  forest  let  us  do  those  ends 

That  here  were  well  begun  and  well  begot : 

And  after,  every  of  this  happy  number, 

That  have  endured  shrewd  days  and  nights  with  us, 

Shall  share  the  good  of  our  returned  fortune,         i8o 

According  to  the  measure  of  their  states. 

Meantime,  forget  this  new-fallen  dignity. 

And  fall  into  our  rustic  revelry. 

Play,  music!     And  you,  brides  and  bridegrooms  all. 

With  measure  heap'd  in  joy,  to  the  measures  fall. 

Jaq.  Sir,  by  your  patience.     If  I  heard  you  rightly, 
The  Duke  hath  put  on  a  religious  life 
And  thrown  into  neglect  the  pompous  court  ? 

Jaq.  de  B.  He  hath. 

Jaq.  To  him  will  I :  out  of  these  convertites  190 

There  is  much  matter  to  be  heard  and  learn'd. 

[To  Duke  S.]   You  to  your  former  honour  I  bequeath ; 
Your  patience  and  your  virtue  well  deserves  it : 

[To  Orl.]   You  to  a  love,  that  your  true  faith  doth 
merit : 

[To  0/j.]   You  to  your 'land,  and  love,  and  great  allies  : 

[To  Sil.']   You  to  a  long  and  well-deserved  bed: 

[To  Touch.]   And  you  to  wrangling;   for  thy  loving  voy- 
age 
Is  but  for  two  months  victuall'd.     So,  to  your  pleas- 
ures: 
I  am  for  other  than  for  dancing  measures. 

Duke  S.  Stay,  Jaques,  stay.  200 

Jaq.  To  see  no  pastime  I :  what  you  would  have 

I  '11  stay  to  know  at  your  abandon'd  cave.  [Exit. 

126 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Epilogue 

Duke  S.  Proceed,  proceed  :  we  will  begin  these  rites, 
As  we  do  trust  they  '11  end,  in  true  delights. 

[A  dance, 

EPILOGUE. 

Ros.  It  is  not  the  fashion  to  see  the  lady  the  epilogue ; 
but  it  is  no  more  unhandsome  than  to  see  the 
lord  the  prologue.  If  it  be  true  that  good  wine 
needs  no  bush,  'tis  true  that  a  good  play  needs 
no  epilogue :  yet  to  good  wine  they  do  use  good 
bushes ;  and  good  plays  prove  the  better  by  the 
help  of  good  epilogues.  What  a  case  am  I  in 
then,  that  am  neither  a  good  epilogue,  nor  can- 
not insinuate  with  you  in  the  behalf  of  a  good 
play!  I  am  not  furnished  like  a  beggar,  there-  lo 
fore  to  beg  will  not  become  me :  my  way  is  to 
conjure  you ;  and  I  '11  begin  with  the  women. 
I  charge  you,  O  women,  for  the  love  you  bear  to  « 
men,  to  like  as  much  of  this  play  as  please  you : 
and  I  charge  you,  O  men,  for  the  love  you  bear 
to  women, — as  I  perceive  by  your  simpering, 
none  of  you  hates  them, — that  between  you  and 
the  women  the  play  may  please.  If  I  were  a 
woman  I  would  kiss  as  many  of  you  as  had 
beards  that  pleased  me,  complexions  that  liked  20 
me  and  breaths  that  I  defied  not :  and,  I  am  sure, 
as  many  as  have  good  beards  or  good  faces  or 
sweet  breaths  will,  for  my  kind  offer,  when  I 
make  curtsy,  bid  me  farewell.  [Exeunt, 


127 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Glossary. 


Abused,  deceived;  III.  v.  80. 

Accord,  consent;  V.  iv.  139. 

Addressed,  prepared;  V.  iv. 
162. 

All  at  once,  all  in  a  breath; 
III.  V.  36. 

Allottcry,  allotment,  allotted 
share ;  I.  i.  75. 

All  points  z=  at  all  points;  I. 
iii.  115. 

Amaze,  confuse ;  I.  ii.  107. 

An,  if;  IV.  i.  31. 

Anatomise,  expose;  I.  i.  161. 

Answered,  satisfied;  II.  vii.  99. 

Antique,  ancient,  old;  II.  i.  31 ; 
II.  iii.  57- 

Any,  any  one;  I.  ii.  140. 

Argument,  reason ;  I.  ii.  281. 

Arm's  end,  arm's  length ;  II.  vi. 
10. 

As,  to  wit,  namely ;  II.  i.  6. 

Assay' d,  attempted;  I.  iii.  128. 

Atalanta's  better  part ;  various- 
ly interpreted  as  referring  to 
Atalanta's    "  swiftness," 


"  beauty,"    "  spiritual    part  "  ; 

probably  the  reference  is  to 

her   beautiful    form;    III.    ii. 

150. 
Atomies,  motes  in  a  sunbeam; 

III.  ii.  240. 
Atone  together,  are  at  one;  V. 

iv.  116. 

Bandy,  contend;  V.  i.  59. 

Banquet,  dessert,  including 
wine  ;  II.  v.  62. 

Bar,  forbid;  V.  iv.  131;  "bars 
me,"  i.e.  excludes  me  from, 
I.  i.  20. 

Batlet  =  \\it\t  bat,  used  by 
laundresses ;   II.   iv.   49. 

Beholding,  beholden;  IV.  i.  60. 

Bestows  himself,  carries  him- 
self; IV.  iii.  87. 

Better,  greater ;  III.  i.  2. 

Blood,  affection,  II.  iii.  2>7 '■> 
passion,  V.  iv.  59. 

Boar  spear ;  "  unlike  the  ordi- 
nary spear  it  appears  to  have 


From  an  ivory  comb  (XVth  Cent.)  in  the  collection  of  Lord  Londesborough. 

(The  illustration  exhibits  the  peculiar  use  of  the  weapon,  which  was  never  thrown, 

and  other  characteristics  of  mediaeval  hunting  scenes. 

128 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Glossary 


been  seldom  thrown,  but  the 
rush  made  by  the  animal  on 
the  hunter  was  met  by  a  di- 
rect opposition  of  the 
weapon  on  his  part  "  (Halli- 
well)  ;  I.  iii.  117. 

Boh,  rap,  slap ;  II.  vii.  55, 

Bonnet,  hat;  III.  ii.  389. 

Bottom;  "neighbour  b.,"  the 
neighbouring  dell ;  IV.  iii.  79. 

Bounds,  boundaries,  range  of 
pasture ;  II.  iv.  83. 

Bow,  yoke;  III.  iii.  78. 

Bravery,  finery;  II.  vii.  80. 

Breathed ;  "  well  breathed,"  in 
full  display  of  my  strength ; 
I.  ii.  218.  ' 

Breather,  living  being;  III.  ii. 
289. 

Breed,  train  up,  educate ;   I.  i. 

4- 

Brief,  in  brief;  IV.  iii.  151. 

Broke,  broken ;  II.  iv.  40. 

Broken  music ;  "  some  instru- 
ments such  as  viols,  violins, 
etc.,  were  formerly  made  in 
sets  of  four,  which,  when 
played  together,  formed  a 
'  consort.'  If  one  or  more  of 
the  instruments  of  one  set 
were  substituted  for  the  cor- 
responding ones  of  another 
set,   the    result   is   no   longer 


a        consort,'      but 

music'"    (Chappell) 

140. 
BrutisJi,  animal  nature 

66. 
Buckles  in,  surrounds ; 

135. 
Bugle,  a  tube-shaped   bead   of 

black  glass;  III.  v.  47. 


broken 
I.    ii. 

II.  vii. 

III.  ii. 


Burden;  the  "burden"  of  a 
song  was  the  base,  foot,  or 
under-song;  III.  ii.  255. 

Bush;  "Good  wine  needs  no 
b." ;  alluding  to  the  bush  of 
ivy  which  was  usually  hung 
out  at  Vintners'  doors ;  Epil. 
3- 


ilifS^fe^^ 


From  an  illuminated  MS.  (XlVth 
Cent.)  in  the  Hunterian  Museum  at 
Glasgow. 

Butchery,  slaughter-house;  II. 
iii.  27. 

Calling,  appellation ;  I.  ii.  235. 

Capable,  sensible,  receivable ; 
III.  V.  23. 

Capon  lined,  alluding  to  the 
customary  gifts  expected  by 
Elizabethan  magistrates, 

"  capon  justices,"  as  they 
were  occasionally  called ;  II. 
vii.  154. 


129 


Glossary 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Capricious,  used  with  a  play 
upon  its  original  sense;  Ital. 
capricioso,  fantastical,  goat- 
ish ;  capra,  a  goat ;  III.  iii.  8. 

Carlot,  little  churl,  rustic;  III. 
V.  1 08. 

Cast,  cast  off;  III.  iv.  15. 

Censure,  criticism ;  IV.  i.  7. 

Change,  reversal  of  fortune;  I. 
iii.  loi. 

Chanticleer,  the  cock;  II.  vii. 
30. 

Character,  write;  III.  ii.  6. 

Cheerly,  cheerily ;  II.  vi.  14. 

Chopt,  chapped ;  II.  iv.  50. 

Chroniclers  (Folio  i  "  chrono- 
clers"),  perhaps  used  for  the 
"jurymen,"  but  the  spelling 
of  Folio  I  suggests  "  coro- 
ners "     for     "  chroniclers  "  ; 

IV.  i.  104. 

Churlish,  miserly ;  II.  iv.  80. 
Cicatrice,    a    mere    mark    (not 
the  scar  of  a  wound)  ;   III. 

V.  23. 

City-woman,  citizen's  wife ;  II. 
vii.  75. 

Civil;  "  c.  sayings,"  sober, 
grave  maxims,  perhaps  "  po- 
lite "  ;  III.  ii.  131. 

Civility,  politeness ;  II.  vii.  96. 

Clap  into 't,  to  begin  a  song 
briskly;  V.  iii.   11. 

Clubs,  the  weapon  used  by  the 
London  prentices,  for  the 
preservation  of  the  public 
peace,  or  for  the  purposes  of 
riot;  V.  ii.  45. 

Cods,  strictly  the  husks  con- 
taining the  peas ;  perhaps 
here  used  for  "  peas  "  ;  II.  iv. 
53- 


Colour,  nature,  kind;  I.  ii.  99, 
100. 

Combine,  bind ;  V.  iv.  156. 

Come  off,  get  off;  I.  ii.  30. 

Comfort,  take  comfort ;  II.  vi.  5. 

Commandment,  command;  II. 
vii.  109. 

Compact,  made  up,  composed; 
II.  vii.  5. 

Complexion;  "good  my  c," 
perhaps  little  more  than  the 
similar  exclamation  "  good- 
ness me  !  "  or  "  good  heart !  " 
possibly,  however,  Rosalind 
appeals  to  her  complexion 
not  to  betray  her ;  III.  ii.  199. 

Conceit,  imagination;  II.  vi.  8; 
mental  capacity ;  V.  ii.  59. 

Condition,  mood ;  I.  ii.  266. 

Conduct,  leadership ;  V.  iv.  163. 

Conned,  learnt  by  heart ;  III.  ii. 
289. 

Constant,  accustomed,  ordi- 
nary; III.  V.  123. 

Contents;  "  if  truth  holds  true 
c,"  i.e.  "  if  there  be  truth  in 
truth  "  ;  V.  iv.  136. 

Contriver,  plotter;  I.  i.  150. 

Conversed,  associated ;  V.  ii. 
66. 

Convertites,  converts ;  V.  iv. 
190. 

Cony,  rabbit ;  III.  ii.  348. 

Cope,  engage  with ;  II.  i.  6y. 

Copulatives,  those  desiring  to 
be  united  in  marriage ;  V.  iv. 
58. 

Cote;  "  cavenne  de  bergier;  a. 
shepherd's  cote ;  a  little  cot- 
tage or  cabin  made  of  turfs, 
straw,  boughs,  or  leaves " 
(Cotgrave)  ;  II.  iv.  83. 


130 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Glossary 


Could,  would  gladly ;  I.  ii.  249. 

Countenance;  "  his  counte- 
nance "  probably  =  "  his  en- 
tertainment of  me,  the  style 
of  living  which  he  allows 
me  " ;  I.  i.  19. 

Counter,  worthless  wager; 
originally  pieces  of  false 
money  used  as  a  means  of 
reckoning;   II.  vii.  63. 

Courtship,  court  life;  III.  ii. 
355- 


Device,  aims,  ambitions ;  1.  i. 
173. 

Dial,  an  instrument  for  meas- 
uring time  in  which  the 
hours  were  marked;  a  small 
portable  sun-dial ;  II.  vii.  20. 

Disable,  undervalue ;  IV.  i,  34. 

Disabled,  disparaged;  V.  iv.  79. 

Dishonest,  immodest;  V.  iii.  4. 

Dislike  =^  express  dislike  of; 
V.  iv.  72. 


Counter  or  Jetton. 
From  an  engraving  in  Knight's  Pictorial  Shakespeare. 

Cousin,  niece;  I.  iii.  41. 
Cover,  set  the  table ;  II.  v.  30. 
Cross;  used  equivocally  in  the 

sense  of  (i)  misfortune,  and 

(2)      money;      the      ancient 

penny    had    a    double    cross 

with  a  crest  stamped  on,   so 

that  it  might  easily  be  broken 

into  four  pieces ;  II.  iv.  12. 
Crow,   laugh   heartily ;    II.   vii. 

30. 
Curtle-axc,  a  cutlass,    a    short 

sword ;  I.  iii.  116. 

Damnable,  worthy  of  condem- 
nation ;  V.  ii.  68. 

Defied,  disliked;  Epil.  21. 

Desperate,  bold,  daring,  for- 
bidden ;  V.  iv.  32. 


From  Petra-Sancta  de  Symbolis  Heroi- 
cis  (1634).  (This  portable  time-indi- 
cator is  interesting  because  of  the 
magnet  by  which  the  owner  might 
"  ascertain  the  proper  position  by 
means  of  the  shadow  cast  from  a  line 
which  opens  with  the  top.") 

Disputable,  fond  of  disputing; 

II.  V.  34. 


131 


Glossary 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Diverted,  diverted  from  its 
natural  course ;  11.  iii.  37. 

Dog-apes,  baboons ;  11.  v.  25. 

Dole,  grief;  I.  ii.  130. 

Ducdame;  burden  of  Jaques' 
song,  variously  interpreted 
by  editors,  e.g.  "  due  ad  me," 
"hue  ad  me";  probably, 
however,  the  word  is  an  an- 
cient refrain,  of  Celtic  ori- 
gin; Halliwell  notes  that 
dusadam-me-me  occurs  in  a 
MS.  of  Piers  Plowman, 
where  ordinary  texts  read 
How,  trolly,  lolly  (C.  ix. 
123)  ;  it  is  probably  a  sur- 
vival of  some  old  British 
game  like  "  Tom  Tidier," 
and  is  said  to  mean  in  Gaelic 
"  this  land  is  mine  "  ;  accord- 
ing to  others  it  is  a  Welsh 
phrase  equivalent  to  "  come 
to  me."  Judging  by  all  the 
evidence  on  the  subject  the 
Gaelic  interpretation  seems  to 
be  most  plausible;  n.h.  1.  61, 
"  to  call  fools  into  a  circle  "  ; 
II.  V.  54- 

Dulcet  diseases  ( ?  an  error  for 
"dulcet  discourses")  per- 
haps "  sweet  mortifications," 
alluding  to  such  proverbial 
sayings  as  "  fool's  bolt  is 
soon  shot,"  etc. ;  V.  iv.  67. 

East,  eastern ;  III.  ii.  91. 
Eat,  eaten ;  II.  vii.  88. 
Effigies,  likeness ;  II.  vii.  193. 
Enchantingly,    as    if    under    a 

spell ;  I.  i.  173. 
Engage,  pledge;  V.    iv.  172. 


Entame,  bring  into  a   state   of 

tameness  ;  III.  v.  48. 
Entreated,  persuaded;  I.  ii.  150. 
Erring,  wandering;  III.  ii.  133. 
Estate,  bequeath,  settle;   V.  ii. 

13- 
Ethiope,  black  as  an  Ethiopian; 

IV.  iii.  35. 

Exempt,  remote;  II.  i.  15. 
Expediently,         expeditiously; 

III.  i.  18. 
Extent,  seizure;  III.  i.  17. 
Extermined,  exterminated;  III. 

V.  89. 

Fair,  beauty ;  III.  ii.  98. 

Falls,  lets  fall ;  III.  v.  5. 

Fancy,  love;  III.  v.  29. 

Fancy-monger,  love-monger ; 
III.  ii.  373. 

Fantasy,  fancy;  II.  iv.  31. 

Favour,  aspect ;  IV.  iii.  87 ; 
countenance ;  V.  iv.  27. 

Feature,  shape,  form ;  used 
perhaps  equivocally,  but  with 
what  particular  force  is  not 
known  ;  "  feature  "  may  have 
been  used  occasionally  in  the 
sense  of  "  verse-making " 
(cp.  Note)  ;  III.  iii.  3. 

Feed,  pasturage ;  II.  iv.  83. 

Feeder,  servant  ("  factor "  and 
"  fedary "  have  been  sug- 
gested) ;  II.  iv.  99. 

Feelingly,  by  making  itself 
felt;  II.  I.  II. 

Fells,  woolly  skins ;  III.  ii.  55. 

Fleet,  make  to  fly :  I.  i.  123. 

Flout,  mock  at,  jeer  at ;  I.  ii.  46. 

Fond,  foolish;  II.  iii.  7. 


132 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Glossary 


For,  for  want  of;  II.  iv.  75; 
II.  vi.  2;  because;  III.  ii. 
129;  as  regards;  IV.  iii.  139. 

Forked  heads,  i.e.  "  fork- 
heads,"  which  Ascham  de- 
scribes in  his  Toxophihis  as 
being  "  arrows  having  two 
points   stretching   forward  "  ; 

II.  i.  24. 

Formal,  having  due  regard  to 
dignity;  II.  vii.  155. 

Free,  not  guilty;  II.  vii.  85. 

Freestone-colour' d,  dark  col- 
oured, of  the  colour  of 
Bath-brick;  IV.  iii.  25. 

Furnished,  apparelled;  Epi- 
logue 10. 

Gargantua's  mouth;  alluding 
to  "  the  large-throated '' 
giant  of  Rabelais,  who  swal- 
lowed five  pilgrims,  with 
their  pilgrims'  staves,  in  a 
salad ;  though  there  was  no 
English  translation  of  Rabe- 
lais in  Shakespeare's  time, 
yet  several  chap-book  his- 
tories of  Gargantua  were 
published;  III.  ii.  233. 

Gentility,  gentleness  of  birth ; 
I,  i.  22. 

Gesture,  bearing ;  V.  ii.  69. 

Glances,  hits;  II.  vii.  57. 

God  buy  you  =. "  God  be  with 
you  " ;    hence,    "  good-bye  "  ; 

III.  ii.  268. 

God  'ild  you  = "  God  yield 
(reward  you  "  ;  III.  iii.  74. 

God  ye  good  ev'n  =  God  give 
you  good  even  (often  repre- 
sented by  some  such  form  as 
"  Godgigoden")  ;  V.  i.  15. 


Golden  zvorld,  golden  age;  I. 
I.  124. 

Goths  (evidently  pronounced 
very  much  like  "  goats," 
hence  Touchstone's  joke)  ; 
the  Getae  (or  Goths)  among 
whom  Ovid  lived  in  banish- 
ment;  III.  iii.  9. 

Grace,  gain  honour ;  I.  i.  154. 

Grace  me,  get  me  credit,  good 
repute,  V.  ii.  64. 

Gracious,  looked  upon  with  fa- 
vour;  I.  ii.  189. 

Graff,  graft ;  III.  ii.  120. 

Gravelled,  stranded,  at  a  stand- 
still ;  IV.  i.  73- 

Harm,  misfortunes;  III.  ii.  78. 

Have  zvith  you,  come  along;  I. 
ii.  258. 

Having,  possession ;  III.  ii.  387. 

He  =  m3.n;  III.  ii.  403. 

Headed,  grown  to  a  head;  II. 
vii.  67. 

Heart,  affection,  love;  I.  i.  174. 

Here  much,  used  ironically,  in 
a  negative  sense,  as  in  the 
modern  phrase  "  much  I 
care !  "  IV.  iii.  2. 

Him  =  he  whom  ;  I.  i.  45. 

Hinds,  serfs,  servants;  I.  i.  20. 

Holla;  "cry  holla  to";  re- 
strain ;  III.  ii.  252. 

Holy,  sacramental ;  III.  iv.  14. 

Honest,  virtuous ;  I.  ii.  39. 

Hooping;  "  out  of  all  hooping," 
beyond  the  bounds  of  won- 
dering; III,  ii.  198. 

Humorous,  full  of  whims,  ca- 
pricious; I.  ii.  268;  II.  iii.  8; 
fanciful ;  IV.  i.  20. 


133 


Glossary 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Hurtling,  din,  tumult ;  IV.  iii. 

132. 
Hyen,  hyena;  IV.  i.  157. 


From  an  ornamented  post  in  Wenden 
Church,  Essex. 


Ill-favoured,  ugly  in  face,  bad 

looking;  V.  iv.  60. 
Ill-favouredly,  ugly ;  I.  ii.  40. 
Impressure,  impression ;  III.  v. 

23- 
Incision ;  "  God  make  in.,  i.e. 
"  give  thee  a  better  under- 
standing " ;  a  reference  per- 
haps to  the  cure  by  blood- 
letting; it  was  said  of  a  very 
silly  person  that  he  ought  to 
be  cut  for  the  simples ;   III. 

Incontinent,  immediately ;  V.  ii. 
42. 

Inquisition,  search,  inquiry ;  II. 
ii.  20. 

Insinuate  with,  ingratiate  my- 
self with ;   Epil.  9. 

Insomuch  =  in  as  much  as  ;  V. 
ii.  61. 

Intendment,  intention;  I.  i.  139. 

Invectively,  bitterly,  with  in- 
vective ;  II.  i.  58. 

Irish  rat;  Irish  witches  were 
said  to  be  able  to  rime  eithei 
man  or  beast  to  death ;   be- 


rimed rats  are  frequently  al- 
luded to  in  Elizabethan  wri- 
ters;   III.  ii.   182. 
Irks,  grieves;  II.  i.  22. 

lars,  discordant  sounds;  II.  vii. 

5- 

Judas's;  "  browner  than  J."  ;  he 
was  usually  represented  in 
ancient  painting  or  tapestry 
with  red  hair  and  beard;  III. 
iv.  8. 

luno's  szvans,  probably  an  er- 
ror for  Venus,  represented  as 
swan-drawn  in  Ovid  {Meta. 
X.  708)  ;  I.  iii.  74. 

lust,  just  so;  III.  ii.  274. 

Justly,  exactly ;  I.  ii.  246. 

Kind,  nature ;  IV.  iii.  59. 

Kindle,  enkindle,  incite ;  I.  i. 
178. 

Kindled,  brought  forth ;  used 
technically  for  the  littering 
of  rabbits;  III.  ii.  349. 

Knol'd,  chimed;  II.  vii.  114. 

Lack,  do  without ;  IV.  i.  182. 

Learn,  teach ;  I.  ii.  6, 

Leave,  permission;  I.  i.  108;  I. 

ii.  156. 
Leer,  countenance ;  IV.  i.  66. 
Lief,  gladly;   I.   i.   151;   III.  ii. 

263. 
Limn'd,  drawn;   II.  vii.    194. 
Lined,  drawn ;  III.  ii.  95. 
Lively  =  life-like  ;  V.  iv.  27. 
Loose,  let  loose ;  III.  v,  103. 
Lover,  mistress ;  III.  iv.  42. 

Make  =  make  fast,  shut ;  IV. 
i.  162, 


134 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Glossary 


Manage^  training  or  breaking 
in  of  a  horse;  I.  i.  13. 

Mannisli,  male ;  I.  iii.  120. 

Matter,  sound  sense;  II,  i,  68; 
sense,  meaning ;  V.  iii.  35. 

Measure,  a  court  dance;  V.  iv. 
45. 

Meed,  reward ;  II.  iii.  58. 

Memory,  memorial ;  II.  iii,  3, 

Might,  may ;  I,  ii,  182, 

Mines,  undermines ;  I,  i.  21. 

Misprised,  despised,  thought 
nothing  of;  I,  i.  176;  I,  ii, 
181. 

Mockahle,  liable  to  ridicule ; 
III,  ii,  49, 

Mocks,  mockeries ;  III.  v.  Z2>- 

Modern,  commonplace,  ordi- 
nary; II.  vii.  156;  IV.  i.  7. 

Moe,  more;  III.  ii.  271. 

Moonish,  variable,  fickle ;  III, 
ii,  421. 

Moral,  probably  an  adjective, 
moralising;  II.  vii.  29. 

Moralise,  discourse,  expound; 
II,  i,  44. 

Mortal;  "  mortal  in  folly  "  ;  a 
quibble  of  doubtful  meaning; 
perhaps  =:  "  excessive,  very," 
i.e.  "  extremely  foolish  "  (  ?= 
likely  to  succumb  to  folly)  ; 

II.  iv.  57. 

Motley,  the  parti-coloured 
dress  of  domestic  fools  or 
jesters;  II.  vii.  34;  (used  ad- 
jectively),    II.   vii,    13;    fool, 

III.  iii.  77. 

Mutton,  sheep ;  III.  ii.  57. 

Napkin,  handkerchief;   IV.  iii, 

94-    . 
Natural,  idiot;  I.  ii.  50. 


Nature;  "of  such  a  nature," 
whose  special  duty  it  is ;  III, 
i.  16. 

Nature's  sale-work  =  ready- 
made  goods ;  III.  v.  43. 

Naught;  "be  n.  awhile,"  a  pro- 
verbial expression  equivalent 
to  "  a  mischief  on  you  " ;   I. 

i-  37- 

Needless,  not  needing ;  II.  i.  46, 

Nezv-fangled,  fond  of  what  is 
new;  IV.  i,  152, 

Nice,  trifling;  IV,  i,  15. 

Nurture,  good  manners,  breed- 
ing;  II,  vii,  97. 

Observance,  attention,  III,  ii. 
242 ;  reverence,  respect,  V.  ii. 
102,  104  (the  repetition  is 
probably  due  to  the  composi- 
tor ;  "  endurance,"  "  obedi- 
ence," "  deservance,"  have 
been  suggested  for  line  104). 

Occasion;  "  her  husband's  o," 
=  an  opportunity  for  getting 
the  better  of  her  husband ; 
IV.  i.  178. 

Of;  "  searching  of  "  =  a- 
searching  of,  II.  iv.  44; 
"  complain  of,"  i.e.  of  the 
want  of;  III.  ii.  31;  by;  III. 
ii,  352;  III,  iii.  91, 

Offer^st  fairly,  dost  contribute 
largely ;  V.  iv.  173. 

Oliver;  '  O  sweet  O.,"  the 
fragment  of  an  old  ballad; 
III.  iii,  99. 


Painted  cloth,  canvas  painted 
with  figures,  mottoes,  or 
moral     sentences,     used     for 


135 


Glossary 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


hangings  for  rooms;  III.  ii. 
283. 


This  representation  of  a  meeting  be- 
tween Death  and  a  fop  is  a  copy  of  a 
painting  formerly  preserved  in  the 
Hungerford  Chapel,  SaUsbury  Ca- 
thedral. The  dialogue  between  the 
characters  is  painted  on  the  labels 
over  their  heads. 


Pantaloon,  a  standing  charac- 
ter in  the  old  ItaHan  comedy; 
he  wore  slippers,  spectacles, 
and  a  pouch,  and  was  invar- 
iably represented  as  an  old 
dotard ;  taken  typically  for  a 
Venetian ;  St.  Pantaleon  was 
the  patron  saint  of  Venice ; 
II.  vii.   158. 

Parcels,  detail ;  III.  v.  125. 

Pard,  leopard;  II.  vii.  150. 

Parlous  perilous ;  III.  ii.  45. 


From  Calot's  series  of  plates  illustra- 
ting the  Italian  comedy. 

Passing,  surpassing,  exceed- 
ingly; III.  V.  138. 

PafJiefical,  probably  "  affection- 
moving,"  perhaps  used  with 
the  force  of  "  pitiful  " ;  IV.  i. 
196. 

Payment,  punishment ;  I.  i.  165. 

Peascod,  literally  the  husk  or 
pod  which  contains  the  peas, 
used  for  the  plant  itself; 
"  our  ancestors  were  fre- 
quently accustomed  in  their 
love  affairs  to  employ  the 
devination  of  a  peascod,  and 
if  the  good  omen  of  the  peas 
remaining  in  the  husk  were 
preserved,  they  presented  it 
to  the  lady  of  their  choice  " ; 
II.  iv.  52. 

Peevish,  wayward,  saucy;  III. 
V.  no. 

Perpend,  reflect ;  III.  ii.  68. 

Petitionary,  imploring;  III.  ii. 
194. 

Phccnix ;  "  as  rare  as  p." ;  the 
phoenix,  according  to  Seneca, 
was  born  once  only  in  500 
years ;  IV.  iii.  17. 


136 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Glossary 


Place  =  dwelling-place ;  II.  iii. 

27. 
Places,  topics,  subjects;  II.  viii. 

40. 
Point-device,   i.e.   at   point   de- 
vice,  trim,   faultless ;    III.   ii. 

393- 

Poke,  pocket ;  II.  vii.  20. 

Poor;  "  p.  a  thousand  crowns," 
the  adjective  precedes  the  ar- 
ticle for  the  sake  of  empha- 
sis, and  probably  also  because 
of  the  substantival  force  of 
the  whole  expression  "  a 
thousand  crowns  "  ;  I.  i.  2. 

Portugal;  "  bay  of  P.,"  still 
used  by  sailors  to  denote  that 
portion  of  the  sea  off  the 
coast  of  P.  from  Oporto  to 
the    headland   of    "  Cintra  "  ; 

IV.  i.  213. 

Practice,  plot,  scheme;  I.  i.  155. 
Practices,  plots,    schemes ;     II. 

iii.  26. 
Present,  being  present ;  III.  i.  4. 
Presentation,       representation ; 

V.  iv.  112. 

Presently,  immediately ;  II.  vi. 
II. 

Prevents,  anticipates;  IV.  i.  61. 

Priser,  prize-fighter ;  II.  iii.  8. 

Private,  particular,  individual ; 
II.  vii.  7. 

Prodigal;  "  what  p.  portion 
have  I  spent,"  i.e.  "  what  por- 
tion have  I  prodigally 
spent  "  ;  I.  i.  40. 

Profit,  proficiency ;  I.  i.  7. 

Prologues;  "  the  only  p.,"  i.e. 
"only  the  p.";  V.  iii.  13. 

Proper,  handsome ;  I.  ii.  120. 


Properer,  more  handsome ;  III. 
V.  51. 

Puisny,  unskilled,  inferior;  III. 
iv.  42. 

Pulpiter  (Spedding's  emenda- 
tion for  "  Jupiter,"  the  read- 
ing of  the  Folios)  ;  III.  ii. 
158. 

Purchase,  acquire;  III.  ii.  351. 

Purgation,  vindication;  I.  iii. 
52  ;  proof,  test ;  V.  iv.  45. 

Purlieus,  the  grounds  on  the 
borders  of  the  forest ;  IV. 
iii.  77- 

Pythagoras'  time,  an  allusion  to 
that  philosopher's  doctrine  of 
the  transmigration  of  souls ; 
III.  ii.  182. 

Quail,  slacken ;  II.  ii.  20. 
Question,  conversation;  III.  iv. 

34- 
Quintain,  a  figure  set  up  for 
tilting  at  in  country  games, 
generally  in  the  likeness  of  a 
Turk  or  Saracen,  bearing  a 
shield  upon  his  left  arm,  and 
brandishing  a  club  with  his 
right,  which  moved  round 
and  struck  a  severe  blow  if 
the    horseman    made    a    bad 


From  Stow's  Survey  of  Lotidon  (1603). 


137 


Glossary 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


aim;  I.  ii.  253.  The  illustra- 
tion shows  a  rudimentary 
form  of  the  more  elaborate 
Quintain. 

Quintessence,  the  extract  of  a 
thing,  containing  its  virtues 
in  a  small  quantity ;  original- 
ly, in  mediaeval  philosophy, 
the  fifth  essence,  or  spirit,  or 
soul  of  the  world,  which  con- 
sisted not  of  the  four  ele- 
ments, but  was  a  certain 
fifth,  a  thing  above  or  be- 
side them;  III.  ii.  142. 

Quip,  a  smart  saying;  V.  iv.  78, 

Quit,  acquit;  III.  i.  11. 

Quotidian,  a  fever,  the  par- 
oxysms of  which  return 
every  day,  expressly  men- 
tioned in  old  writers  as  a 
symptom  of  love ;  III.  ii.  374- 

Ragged,  rough,  untuneful ;  II. 
V.  14. 

Rank,  row,  line;  IV.  iii.  80; 
"  butter  -  women's  rank" 
["rate,"  "rack,"  "rant(at)," 
"canter,"  have  been  pro- 
posed]=  file,  order,  jog- 
trot;  III.  ii.   loi. 

Rankness,  presumption;  I.  i,  90. 

Rascal,  technical  term  for  lean 
deer;  III.  iii.  57. 

Raw,  ignorant,  inexperienced ; 
III.  ii.  74- 

Reason,  talk,  converse ;  I.  ii.  54. 

Recks,  cares ;  II,  iv.  81. 

Recountnients,  things  recount- 
ed, narrations;  IV.  iii.  141. 

Recover' d,  restored;  IV.  iii. 
151. 


Religious,  belonging  to  some 
religious  order;  III.  ii.  353. 

Remembrance,  memory;  I,  i.  66. 

Remorse,  compassion;  I.  iii.  69. 

Removed,  remote;  III.  ii.  351. 

Render,  describe ;  IV.  iii.  123. 

Resolve,  solve ;  III.  ii.  240. 

Reverence;  "  his  reverence," 
the  respect  due  to  him;  I.  i. 

53. 
Right,  downright ;  III.  ii.  loi ; 

true;  III.  ii.  123. 
Ripe,  grown  up;  IV.  iii.  88. 
Roundly,  without  delay ;  V.  iii. 

II. 
Roynish,  rude,  uncouth ;  II.  ii. 

8. 

Sad,  serious;  III.  ii.  151. 

Sad  brozv,  serious  face ;  III.  ii. 
221. 

Satchel;  II.  vii.  145  ;  cp.  the  fol- 
lowing illustration: — 


From  an  allegorical  picture  of  learning 
audits  rewards  (1589),  in  the  Stras- 
burg  Library. 

Sazus,  maxims;  II.  vii.  156. 
School,   (probably)   university; 

I.  i.  6. 
Scrip,  shepherd's  pouch ;  III.  ii. 

166. 


138 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Glossary 


Seeks  (used  instead  of  the  sin- 
gular) ;  V.  i.  65. 

Seeming,  seemly;   V.  iv.  71. 

Se'nnight  =  seven  -  night,  a 
week;  III.  ii.  325. 

Sententious,  pithy;  V.  iv.  65. 

Shadozv,  shady  place ;  IV.  i. 
222. 

Shall,  must;  I.  i.  133. 

She,  woman ;  III.  ii.  10. 

Sheaf,  gather  into  sheaves ;  III. 
ii.  no. 

Should  be,  came  to  be,  was  said 
to  be ;  III.  ii.  177. 

Shouldst  =  wouldst ;  I.  ii.  229. 

Show,  appear;  I.  iii,  80. 

Shrewd,  evil,  harsh ;  V.  iv.  179. 

Simples,  herbs  used  in  medi- 
cine ;  IV.  i.  17. 

Sir,  a  title  bestowed  on  the  in- 
ferior clergy,  hence  Sir  Oli- 
ver Mar-text,  the  country  cu- 
rate;  probably  a  translation 
of  "  Dominus,"  still  applied 
to  "  Bachelors  "  at  the  Uni- 
versity ;  III.  iii.  42. 

Smirch,  besmear,  darken ;  I.  iii. 
III. 

Smother;  "  from  the  smoke  in- 
to the  s.";  thick  suffocating 
smoke ;  I.  ii.  289. 

Snake,  used  as  a  term  of  scorn ; 
IV.  iii.  71. 

So,  if,  provided  that;  I.  ii.  11. 

Sorts,  kinds,  classes;  I.  i.  173. 

South-sea  of  discovery,  a  voy- 
age of  discovery  over  a  wide 
and  unknown  ocean ;  the 
whole  phrase  is  taken  by 
some  to  mean  that  a  minute's 
delay  will  bring  so  many 
questions     that     to     answer 


them  all  will  be  like  a  voy- 
age of  discovery.  Perhaps 
the  reference  is  to  Rosalind's 
discovery  of  her  secret,  of  the 
truth  about  herself;  III.  ii. 
202, 

Speed,  patron;  I.  ii.  211. 

Spleen,  passion;  IV.  i.  211. 

Squandering,  random;  II.  vii. 
57- 

Stagger,  hesitate  ;  III.  iii.  48. 

S talking  horse;  "  a  horse, 
either  real  or  fictitious,  by 
which  the  fowler  anciently 
sheltered  himself  from  the 
sight  of  the  game " ;  V.  iv. 
III. 


From  a  MS.  de  la  Chasse  des  testes 
sauvages  (XVth  Cent-),  preserved  at 
Paris. 

Stay,  wait  for;  III.  ii.  216. 

Sticks,  strikes,  stabs;  I.  ii.  244. 

Still,  continually ;  I.  ii.  228. 

Still  music,  i.e.  soft,  low,  gen- 
tle music;  V.  iv.  113-114. 

Straight  =  straightway,  imme- 
diately; III.  V.  136. 

Successfully,  likely  to  succeed; 
I.  ii.  153. 

Suddenly,  quickly,  speedily ;  II. 
ii.  19. 


139 


Glossary 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Suit,  used  quibblingly  (i)  pe- 
tition, (2)  dress;  II.  vii.  44. 

Suits  :=  favours  (with  a  play 
upon  "  suit,"  "  livery  ")  ;  1.  ii. 
248. 

Sun;  "to  live  i'  the  s.,"  i.e.  to 
live  in  open-air  freedom;  II. 
V.  41. 

Sure,  firmly  joined;  V.  iv.  141. 

'Swashing,    swaggering;     I.    iii. 

119. 
Swift,  keen  of  wit ;  V.  iv.  65. 

Ta'en  up,  made  up ;  V.  iv.  50. 

Taxation,  censure,  satire ;  I.  ii. 
84. 

Tempered,  composed,  blended; 
I.  ii.  14. 

Thatched  house,  alluding  to  the 
story  of  Baucis  and  Phile- 
mon; III.  iii.   II. 

That  that  =  that  which ;  V.  iv. 
62. 

Thought,  melancholy;  or  per- 
haps ''  moody  reflection  "  ; 
IV.  i.  211. 

Thrasonical,  boastful  (from 
Thrasc  the  boaster,  in  the 
Eunuchus  of  Terence)  ;  V.  ii. 

^      34; 

Thrice-crozvned  Queen,  ruling 
in  heaven,  earth,  and  the  un- 
der-world, as  Luna,  Diana, 
and  Hecate ;  III.  ii.  2. 

Thrifty;  "the  th.  hire  I  saved," 
i.e.  "  that  which  by  my  thrift 
I  saved  out  of  the  hire  "  ;  II. 
iii.  39. 

To,  as  to;  II.  iii.  7. 

Touches,    characteristics;     III. 

ii.  155- 
Toward,  at  hand;  V.  Iv.  35. 


Toy,   bagatelle,    trifling   affair; 

III.  iii.  75. 
Traverse,  crossways ;     III.     iv. 

41. 
Trow  you,  know  you ;   III.   ii. 

184. 
Turn'd  into,  brought  into;  IV. 

iii.  23. 

Umber,  brown  pigment, 
brought  from  Umbria ;  I.  iii. 
III. 

Uncouth,  unknown,  strange ; 
II.  vi.  6. 

Unexpressive,  inexpressive,  un- 
able to  be  expressed;  III.  ii. 
10. 

Unkind,  unnatural ;  II.  vii.  175. 

Unquestionable,  unwilling  to  be 
conversed  with  ;  III.  ii.  384. 

Unto,  in  addition  to ;  I.  ii.  240. 

Untuneable  (Theobald  and 
other  editors  "  untimeable," 
cp.  the  page's  reply) ,  out  of 
tune,  perhaps  also  "  out  of 
time  "  ;  V.  iii.  36. 

Up;  "kill  them  up";  used  as 
an  intensive  particle;  II.  i.  62. 

Velvet,  delicate  ("  velvet  is  the 
technical  term  for  the  outer 
covering  of  the  horns  of  a 
stag  in  the  early  stages  of  its 
growth)  ;  II.  i.  50. 

Vengeance,  mischief;  IV.  iii. 
48. 

Villain,  bondman,  serf ;  with 
play  upon  the  other  sense ;  I. 
i.,58. 

Voice ;  "  in  my  voice,"  i.e.  as 
far  as  my  vote  is  concerned; 
II.  iv.  87. 


140 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Glossary 


Ware,  aware;  II.  iv.  58;  cau- 
tious ;  11.  iv.  59. 

Warp,  turn,  change  the  aspect 
of,  twist  out  of  shape ;  II.  vii. 
187. 

Ways;  "  come  your  ways  "  = 
come  on ;  I.  ii.  210. 

Weak  evils,  evils  which  cause 
weakness ;  II.  vii.  132. 

Wear,  fashion ;  II.  vii.  34. 

Wearing,  wearying ;  II.  iv.  38. 

Week,  an  indefinite  period  of 
time,  perhaps  =  "in  the 
week,"  cp.  the  phrase  "  too 
late  in  the  day  " ;  II.  iii.  74. 

Wherein  went  he,  how  was  he 
dressed?    III.  ii.  229. 

Where  you  are  =  what  you 
mean ;  V.  ii.  32. 

Wit,  whither  wilt;  an  exclama- 
tion   of    somewhat    obscure 


meaning,  used  evidently 
when  any  one  was  either 
talking  nonsense  or  usurping 
a  greater  share  in  conversa- 
tion than  justly  belonged  to 
him;  IV.  i.  167;  cp.  "Wit! 
whither  wander  you  " ;  I.  ii. 
57- 

Woeful,  expressive  of  woe;  II, 
vii.  148. 

Woman  of  the  world,  ic.  mar- 
ried; V.  iii.  4. 

Working,  endeavour;  I.  ii.  204. 

Wrath,  passion,  ardour;  V.  ii. 
44- 

Wrestler  (trisyllabic)  ;  II.  ii. 
13- 

You  =  for  you  ;  II.  v.  32. 
Young,  inexperienced;  I.  i.  55. 


^=r 


A  XVIIth  Cent.  Curtle-Axe  (seel.  iii.  116). 


141 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Critical  Notes. 

BY  ISRAEL  GOLLANCZ. 

Dramatis  Persons.  The  pronunciation  of  '  Jaques'  is  still 
somewhat  doubtful,  though  the  metrical  test  makes  it  certain  that 
it  is  always  a  dissyllable  in  Shakespeare:  there  is  evidence  that 
the  name  was  well  known  in  England,  and  ordinarily  pronounced 
as  a  monosyllable;  hence  Harrington's  Metamorphosis  of  A-jax 
(1596).  The  name  of  the  character  was  probably  rendered 
'  Jakes ' :  the  modern  stage  practice  is  in  favor  of  '  Jaq-wes' 

I.  i.  I.  'it  was  upon  this  fashion:  bequeathed,'  etc.  The  Folio 
does  not  place  a  stop  at  'fashion,'  but  makes  '  bequeathed'  a  past 
participle ;  the  words  '  charged '  .  .  .  '  on  his  blessing '  presup- 
pose '  he '  or  '  my  father ' ;  the  nominative  may,  however,  be  easily 
supplied  from  the  context,  or  possibly,  but  doubtfully,  '  a ' 
(=  '  he  ')  has  been  omitted  before  '  charged.'  There  is  very  much 
to  be  said  in  favour  of  the  Folio  reading;  a  slight  confusion  of 
two  constructions  seems  to  have  produced  the  difficulty.  War- 
burton,  Hanmer,  and  Capell  proposed  to  insert  'my  father'  before 
'  bequeathed.'  Others  punctuate  in  the  same  way  as  in  the  present 
text,  but  read  'he  bequeathed'  or  'my  father  bequeathed' ',  the 
Cambridge  editors  hold  that  the  subject  of  the  sentence  is  inten- 
tionally omitted. 

I.  ii.  32.  'mock  the  good  housewife  Fortune  from  her  wheel'; 
cp.  'Fortune  is  painted  zvith  a  wheel,  to  signify  to  you,  which  is 
the  moral  of  it,  that  she  is  turning,  and  inconstant,  and  mutability, 
and  variation,'  Henry  V .,  III.  vi.  35.  'Good-housewife'  as  Har- 
ness puts  it,  '  seems  applied  to  Fortune  merely  as  a  jesting  appel- 
lation.' 

I.  ii.  82.  The  Folio  prefixes  'Rosalind'  to  the  speech:  Theo- 
bald first  proposed  to  change  to  '  Celia,'  and  he  has  been  followed 
by  most  editors.  Capell  suggested  '  Fernandine '  for  'Frederick  ' 
in  the  previous  speech.  Shakespeare  does  not  give  us  the  name 
of  Rosalind's  father;  he  is  generally  referred  to  as  '  Duke  Senior' ; 
Celia's  father  is  mentioned  as  '  Frederick '  in  two  other  places 

142 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Notes 


From  the  English  translation  (Cott.  MS.,  XVth  Cent.)  of  WilHam  de 
Deguilleville's  Pilgrimage  of  Hunia7i  Life. 

(1.  236  of  this  Scene,  and  V.  iv.  160).  One  has,  however,  a 
shrewd  suspicion  that  Touchstone  is  referring  to  the  exiled  king 
as  '  old  Frederick,'  and  that  RosaHnd  speaks  the  words,  '  my 
father  s  love  is  enough  to  honour  him:'  the  expression  is  so  much 
in  harmony  with  her  subsequent  utterance,  11.  237-240 : — 

'My  father  loved  Sir  Rowland  as  his  soul.' 

And  again,  in  the  next  scene,  1.  30 : — 

'  The  Duke  my  father  loved  his  father  dearly.' 

I.  ii.  209.  'You  mean';  Theobald  proposed  'An'  you  mean,' 
and  the  Cambridge  editors  suggest  that  'and'  for  'an'  (=^if) 
may  be  the  right  reading,  omitted  by  the  printer,  who  mistook  it 
for  part  of  the  stage-direction  '  Orl.  and '  for  '  Orland.' 

I.  ii.  274.  'the  taller';  but  Rosalind  is  later  on  described  as 
'more  than  common  tall,'  and  Celia  as  'the  woman  low,  and 
browner  than  her  brother':  probably  'taller'  is  a  slip  of  Shake- 
speare's pen  :  '  shorter,'  '  smaller,'  '  lesser,'  '  lower,'  have  been  va- 
riously proposed ;  of  these  '  lesser '  strikes  one  perhaps  as  most 
Shakespearian. 

I.  iii.  loi.  'charge';  Folio  i,  which  is  followed  by  Cambridge 
editors,  '  change ' ;  '  charge,'  i.e.  '  burden,'  the  reading  of  Folios  2 
and  3,  seems  to  be  the  true  reading. 

143 


Notes 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


I.  iii.  127.  There  has  been  much  discussion  of  the  scansion  of 
this  line ;  several  critics,  in  their  anxiety  to  save  Shakespeare 
from  the  serious  charge  of  using  a  false  quantity,  proposes  to  ac- 
cent '  Aliena'  on  the  penultimate,  but  for  all  that  it  seems  most 
likely  that  the  line  is  to  be  read — 


II 
for  ' 


''No  I6ng\cr  Ccl\ya  hiit\  Ali\cna.' 
Here  feel  we  but';  Theobald  first  conjectured 


1.  5.  'Mere  feel  we  but';  iheobald  first  conjectured  'hut' 
not'  of  the  Folios,  and  his  emendation  has  been  accepted  by 
many  scholars,  though  violently  opposed  by  others.  Most  of  the 
discussions  turn  on  '  the  penalty  of  Adam'  which  ordinarily  sug- 
gests toil — '  in  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread ' — but  in 
this  passage  Shakespeare  makes  the  penalty  to  be  "  the  season's 
difference,"  cp.  Paradise  Lost,  x.  678,  9: — 

'Else  had  the  spring  Perpetual  smiled  on  earth  with  vernant 
Howers' 
II.  i.  13-14.  '  like  the  toad,  ugly  and  venomous,'  etc.  A  favour- 
ite Euphuistic  conceit,  e.g.  '  TJie  foule 
toade  hath  a  fairc  stone  in  his  head,' 
Euphues,  p.  S3  (ed.  Arber),  based  on 
an  actual  belief  in  toad-stones.  The 
origin  of  the  belief  is  traced  back  to 
Pliny's  description  of  a  stone  as  '  of  the 
colour  of  a  frog.' 

11.  iii.  12.  'No  more  do  yours:'  a 
somewhat  loose  construction,  but  one 
easily  understood,  the  force  of  the  pre- 
vious sentence  being  '  to  some  kind  of 
men  their  graces  serve  them  not  as 
friends.' 

II.  iii.  71 
dation  for 
II.  iv.   I. 
dation    for 

generally  adopted ;  some  scholars  are  in  favour  of  the  Folio  read- 
ing, and  put  it  down  to  Rosalind's  assumed  merriment ;  her  sub- 
sequent confession  as  to  her  weariness  must  then  be  taken  as  an 
aside. 

II.  iv.  52.  'from  whom'  i.e.  from  the  peascod ;  similarly  'her' 
in  the  next  line :  he  was  wooing  the  peascod  instead  of  his 
mistress. 

II.  V.  3.  '  turn'  so  the  Folios:    Pope  substituted  '  tune';  but  the 


Wears  yet  a  precious  Jewel 

in  his  head.'' 

From  an  ep rly  edition  fc.  1495? ) 

of  the  Ortus  Sa7iitatis. 


'seventeen' ;  Rowe's  emen- 
seaventie '  of  the  Folios. 

'  weary  ' ;  Theobald's  emen- 
'  merry '   of  the   Folios,   and 


144 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Notes 

change  is  unnecessary ;  according  to  Steevens  '  to  turn  a  tune  or 
note '  is  still  a  current  phrase  among  vulgar  musicians. 

II,  V.  6i.  '  r  II  rail  against  all  the  tirst-born  of  Egypt.'  Accord- 
ing to  Johnson,  'the  first-born  of  Egypt'  was  a  proverbial  ex- 
pression for  high-born  persons,  but  it  has  not  been  found  else- 
where. Nares  suggests  that  perhaps  Jaques  is  only  intended  to 
say  that,  if  he  cannot  sleep,  he  will,  like  other  discontented  per- 
sons, rail  against  his  betters.  There  is  no  doubt  some  subtler 
meaning  in  the  words,  and  the  following  is  possibly  worthy  of 
consideration : — Jaques  says  if  he  cannot  sleep  he  '11  rail  again  all 
first-borns,  for  it  is  the  question  of  birthright  which  has  caused 
him  '  leave  his  wealth  and  ease,'  merely  as  he  had  previously  put 
it  '  to  please  a  stubborn  will ' ;  this  idea  has  perhaps  suggested 
Pharaoh's  stubbornness,  and  by  some  such  association  'all  first- 
borns '  became  '  all  the  first-born  of  Egypt ' ;  or,  by  mere  asso- 
ciation, the  meaningless  tag  '  of  Egypt '  is  added  by  Jaques  to 
round  off  the  phrase,  and  to  give  it  some  sort  of  colour. 

II.  vii.  19.  Touchstone  of  course  alludes  to  the  common  saying 
*  Fortune  favours  fools,'  cp.  Every  man  out  of  his  humour,  I.  i. : 

'  Sogliardo.  Why,  who  am  I,  sir  ? 
Macilente.  One  of  those  that  fortune  favours. 
Carlo.   [Aside\  The  periphrasis  of  a  fool.' 

II.  vii.  34.  2>^.  '  A  worthy  fool '  .  .  .  '  O  zvorthy  fool ' :  i\\t'  A' 
and  '  O  '  should  probably  change  places,  according  to  an  anony- 
mous conjecture  noted  in  the  Cambridge  Edition. 

II.  vii.  55.  'Not  to  seem';  the  words  'not  to'  were  first  added 
by  Theobald :  the  Folios  read  '  seem ' ;  Collier,  following  his  MS. 
corrections,  proposed  '  but  to  seem ' ;  the  meaning  is  the  same  in 
both  cases.  Mr.  Furness  follows  Ingleby  in  maintaining  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  text,  and  paraphrases  thus: — "He  who  is  hit  the 
hardest  by  me  must  laugh  the  hardest,  and  that  he  must  do  so  is 
plain ;  because  if  he  is  a  wise  man  he  must  seem  foolishly  sense- 
less of  the  bob  by  laughing  it  off.  Unless  he  does  this,  viz., 
shows  his  insensibility  by  laughing  it  oft*,  any  chance  hit  of  the 
fool  will  expose  every  nerve  and  fibre  of  his  folly." 

II.  vii.  ys-  '  the  zvcary  very  means'  the  reading  of  the  Folios 
(Folios  I  and 2,  'zvcarie'',  Folios  3,  4,  'weary').  Pope  proposed 
'very  very';  Collier  (MS.)  'the  very  means  of  zvear';  Staunton 
'  weary-very,'  or  '  very-weary.'  Others  maintain  the  correctness 
of  the  original  reading,  and  explain,  '  until  that  its  very  means, 
being  weary  or  exhausted,  do  ebb.'     A  very  plausible  emendation 

145 


Notes  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

was  suggested  by  Singer,  viz.,  '  zvcarcr's '  for  '  weary/  and  it  has 
been  adopted  by  several  editors :  cp.  Henry  VIII.,  I.  i.  83-5 : — 

'  O,  many 
Have  broke  their  backs  zuifh  laying  manors  on  'em 
For  this  great  journey.' 

II.  vii.  178.  'Because  thou  art  not  seen;  i.e.  "as  thou  art  an 
enemy  that  dost  not  brave  us  with  thy  presence "  (Johnson)  : 
several  unnecessary  emendations  have  been  proposed,  e.g.  '  Thou 
causest  not  that  teen'  (Hammer);  'Because  thou  art  foreseen' 
(Staunton),  etc. 

II.  vii.  189.  'As  friend  remembe/d  not,'  i.e.  *as  forgotten 
friendship.'  or  '  as  what  an  unremembered  friend  feels  ' :  cp.  '  ben- 
efits forgot,'  supra. 

III.  ii.  116.  'the  very  false  gallop,'  cp.  Nashe's  Four  Letters 
Confuted,  "  I  would  trot  a  false  gallop  through  the  rest  of  his 
ragged  verses,  but  that  if  I  should  retort  his  rime  dogrell  aright, 
I  must  make  my  verses  (as  he  does  his)  run  hobling  like  a 
Brewer's  Cart  upon  the  stones,  and  observe  no  length  in  their 
feet." 

III.  ii.  158.  ' pulpiter' ;  Spedding's  suggestion  for  'Jupiter'  of 
the  Folios. 

III.  ii.  431.  '  living,'  i.e.  lasting,  permanent;  the  antithesis  seems 
to  reqiiire  '  loving,'  which  has  been  substituted  by  some  editors : 
it  is  noteworthy  that  in  some  half-dozen  instances  in  Shakespeare 
'  live '  has  been  printed  for  '  love,'  but  it  is  questionable  whether 
any  change  is  justifiable  here. 

lll.in.S,^-' Your  features!  .  .  .  what  features  f  Farmer's 
conjecture,  'feature!  .  .  .  what's  feature?'  seems  singularly 
plausible;  cp.  1.  17,  'I  do  not  know  what  "poetical"  is.' 

III.  iii.  79.  'her,'  so  Folios  i,  2;  'his,'  Folios  3,  4:  the  female 
bird  was  the  falcon ;  the  male  was  called  '  tercel '  or  *  tassel.' 

III.  iv.  44.  'noble  goose:'  Hanmer  substituted  'nose-quilled' 
for    'noble,'  which  is,  of  course,  used  ironically. 

III.  V.  7.  '  dies  and  lives,'  i.e.  '  lives  and  dies,'  i.e.  '  subsists  from 
the  cradle  to  the  grave ' ;  the  inversion  of  the  words  seems  to  have 
been  an  old  idiom:  cp.  ' Romaunt  of  the  Rose,'  v.  579: — 

'  With  sorwe  they  both  die  and  live, 
That  unto  Richesse  her  hertis  yive! 

Other  passages  in  later  literature  might  be  adduced  where  the 
exigencies  of  metre  do  not  exist. 

146 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Notes 

IV.  i.  155.  'like  Diana  in  the  fountain.'  Stow  mentions  in  his 
Survey  of  London  (1603)  that  there  was  set  up  in  1596  on  the 
east  side  of  the  cross  in  Cheapside  "  a  curiously  wrought  taber- 
nacle of  grey  marble,  and  in  the  same  an  alabaster  image  of  Diana, 
and  water  conveyed  from  the  Thames  prilling  from  her  naked 
breast."  It  is  very  doubtful  whether  Shakespeare  is  referring  to 
this  particular  '  Diana,'  as  some  have  supposed. 

IV.  ii.  13.  The  words  '  Thett  sing  him  home,  the  rest  shall  bear 
this  burden/  are  printed  as  one  line  in  the  Folios.  Theobald 
was  the  first  to  rearrange,  as  in  the  text.  Knight,  Collier,  Dyce, 
and  others  take  the  whole  to  be  a  stage-direction.  Knight  first 
called  attention  to  the  fact  that  possibly  the  original  music  for 
this  song  is  to  be  found  in  John  Hilton's  '  Catch  that  Catch  Can; 
or,  a  Choice  Collection  of  Catches,  Rounds,'  etc.,  1652  (printed 
Furness,  p.  230,  231). 

IV.  iii.  76.  'fair  ones';  Mr.  Wright  suggests  that  perhaps  we 
should  read  '  fair  one,'  and  Mr.  Furness  assents  to  the  view  that 
'  Shakespeare  seems  to  have  forgotten  that  Celia  was  apparently 
the  only  woman  present.'  But  surely  it  is  noteworthy  that  Oliver 
a  few  lines  lower  down  gives  the  description: — '  The  boy  is  fair,' 
etc. 

IV.  iii.  88.  'Like  a  ripe  sister:  the  woman  lozv';  the  pause  at 
the  woman  low  caesura  takes  the  place  of  a  syllable. 

IV.  iii.  102.  '  Cheiving  the  food,'  usually  quoted  as  '  chewing  the 
cud,'  a  correction  of  the  line  first  suggested  by  Scott  (cp.  Intro- 
duction to  Quentin  Durivard) . 

V.  ii.  21.  'fair  sister';  Oliver  addresses  'Ganymede'  thus  for 
he  is  Orlando's  counterfeit  Rosalind  (cp.  IV.  iii.  93).  Some  in- 
terpreters of  Shakespeare  are  of  opinion  that  Oliver  knows  the 
whole  secret  of  the  situation. 

V.  ii.  /7.  '  zuhich  I  tender  dearly ' ;  probably  an  allusion  to  the 
Act  "against  Conjuracons,  Inchantments,  and  Witchecraftes," 
passed  under  Elizabeth,  which  enacted  that  all  persons  using 
witchcraft,  etc.,  whereby  death  ensued,  should  be  put  to  death 
without  benefit  of  clergy,  etc. 

V.  iii.  16.  Chappell  printed  the  music  of  the  song  from  a  MS., 
now  in  the  Advocates'  Library,  Edinburgh,  belonging  to  the  early 
part  of  the  seventeenth  century  (cp.  Furness,  pp.  262.  263).  In 
the  Folios  the  last  stanza  is  made  the  second.  Mr.  Rolfe  is  of 
opinion  that  Shakespeare  contemplated  a  trio  between  the  Pages 
and  Touchstone. 

V.  iv.  4.    'As  those  that  fear  they  hope,  and  know  they  fear.' 

147 


Notes  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

A  large  number  of  unnecessary  emendations  have  been  proposed 
for  this  plausible  reading  of  the  Folios;  e.g.  'fear,  they  hope,  and 
know  they  fear';  'fear  their  hope  and  hope  their  fear';  'fear 
their  hope  and  know  their  fear,'  etc.  The  last  of  these  gives  the 
meaning  of  the  line  as  it  stands  in  the  text. 

V.  iv.  93.  'we  quarrel  in  print,  by  the  hook';  Shakespeare 
probably  refers  to  "  Vincentio  Saviolo  his  Practise.  In  two 
Bookes.  The  ■first  intreating  the  use  of  the  Rapier  and  Dagger. 
The  second,  of  Honor  and  honorable  Quarrels  " ;  printed  in  1594. 

V.  iv.  94.  'books  for  good  manners'  e.g.  "A  lytic  Booke  of 
Good  Maners  for  Chyldren  with  interpritation  into  the  vulgar e 
Englysshe  tongue  by  R.  Whittinton,  Poet  Laureat";  printed  at 
London  in  1554  {cp.  Dr.  Furnivall's  Book  of  Norture  of  John 
Russell,  etc.,  published  by  the  Early  English  Text  Society,  1868). 
Cp.  Hamlet,  v.  ii.  149,  'he  (i.e.  Laertes)  is  the  card  or  calendar  of 
gentry,'  a  probable  allusion  to  the  title  of  some  such  '  book  of 
manners.' 

V.  iv.  120.  '  her  hand  with  his ' ;  the  first  and  second  Folios 
*  his  hand';  corrected  to  'her'  in  the  second  and  third  Folios. 

V.  iv.  154.  'Even  daughter,  welcome';  Theobald  proposed 
^daughter-welcome,'  i.e.  'welcome  as  a  daughter.'  Folios  i,  2,  3, 
read  'daughter  welcome';  Folio  4,  'daughter,  welcome.'  The 
sense  is  clear  whichever  reading  is  adopted,  though  the  rhythm 
seems  in  favour  of  the  reading  in  the  text :  '  O  my  dear  niece,' 
says  the  Duke,  '  nay,  daughter,  welcome  to  me  in  no  less  degree 
than  daughter.' 

Epilogue,  18.  '  //  /  were  a  zvoman ' ;  the  part  of  Rosalind  was 
of  course  originally  taken  by  a  boy-actor ;  women's  parts  were 
not  taken  by  women  till  after  the  Restoration. 


148 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Explanatory  Notes. 

The  Explanatory  Notes  in  this  edition  have  been  specially  selected  and 
adapted,  with  emendations  after  the  latest  and  best  authorities,  from  the 
most  eminent  Shakespearian  scholars  and  commentators,  including  Johnson, 
Malone,  Steevens,  Singer,  Dyce,  Hudson,  White,  Furness,  Dowden,  and 
others.  This  method,  here  introduced  for  the  first  time,  provides  the  best 
annotation  of  Shakespeare  ever  embraced  in  a  single  edition. 

ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

54,55.  What,  boy!  etc.: — Upon  this  passage  Coleridge  remarks: 
"  There  is  a  beauty  here.  The  word  boy  naturally  provokes  and 
awakens  in  Orlando  the  sense  of  his  manly  powers ;  and  with  the 
retort  of  elder  brother,  he  grasps  him  with  firm  hands,  and  makes 
him  feel  he  is  no  boy." 

58  et  seq.  I  aw  no  villain,  etc. : — "  The  tale  of  Gamelyn,"  says 
Lloyd,  "  was  written  for  an  audience  that  sympathized  highly  with 
manly  or  rather  muscular  prowess,  and  was  glad  to  find  their 
favoured  champion  with  a  plausible  excuse  for  exerting  a  heavi- 
ness of  hand  that  even  in  the  excused  cases  is  not  unfrequently 
mere  brutality.  To  such  an  audience  it  was  a  preparation  for  en- 
joyment for  heirs  and  elder  brothers,  justices,  sheriffs,  and  jurors, 
abbots,  and  grey  friars  to  be  fairly  placed  so  far  in  the  wrong  as 
to  justify — so  they  thought,  any  outrage  from  younger  brothers 
and  outlaws.  The  spirit  of  Gamelyn  rises  like  that  of  Orlando 
against  the  ill-treatment  from  his  brother  in  contravention  of  his 
father's  will,  and  we  trace  Orlando  in  his  reply  to  an  insult : — 

'  Then  saide  to  him  Gamelyn 

The  childe  that  was  ying, 
Christ  his  curse  mote  he  havin 

That  clepeth  me  gadling  (vagabond). 
I  am  no  worse  gadling  than  thee 

Pardee  ne  no  worse  wight, 
But  born  I  was  of  a  lady 

And  gotten  of  a  knight.'  " 

149 


Notes  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

121.  Robin  Hood: — This  prince  of  outlaws  and  "most  gentle 
theefe  "  lived  in  the  time  of  Richard  I.,  and  had  his  chief  residence 
in  Sherwood  forest,  Nottinghamshire.  Wordsworth  aptly  styles 
him  "the  English  ballad-singer's  joy";  and  in  Percy's  Reliqucs 
is  an  old  ballad  entitled  Robin  Hood  and  Guy  of  Gisbornc,  show- 
ing how  his  praises  were  wont  to  be  sung.  Of  his  mode  of  life 
one  of  the  best  accounts  is  contained  in  the  twenty-sixth  song  of 
Drayton's  Polyolbion.  His  life  and  character  are  also  well  set 
forth  in  Ben  Jonson's  Sad  Shepherd,  as  they  likewise  are  in  Sir 
Walter  Scott's  Ivanhoe. 

124.  the  golden  zvorld: — Of  this  fabled  golden  age — an  ancient 
and  very  general  tradition  wherein  the  state  of  man  in  Paradise 
appears  to  have  been  shadowed — some  notion  is  given  in  Gon- 
zalo's  Commonwealth,  The  Tempest,  II.  i.  The  matter  is  further 
illustrated  by  a  passage  in  Fanshawe's  version  of  Guarini's  Pastor 
Fido : — 

"  Fair  golden  age !  when  milk  was  th'  only  food, 
And  cradle  of  the  infant  world  the  wood 

*  Rock'd  by  the  winds ;  and  th'  untouch'd  flocks  did  bear 
Their  dear  young  for  themselves !     None  yet  did  fear 
The  sword  or  poison :    no  black  thoughts  begun 
T'  eclipse  the  light  of  the  eternal  sun : 
Nor  wand'ring  pines  unto  a  foreign  shore 
Or  war,  or  riches  (a  worse  mischief,)  bore. 
That  pompous  sound,  idol  of  vanity, 
Made  up  of  title,  pride,  and  flattery. 
Which  they  call  honour,  whom  ambition  blinds, 
Was  not  as  yet  the  tyrant  of  our  minds. 
But  to  buy  real  goods  with  honest  toil 
Amongst  the  woods  and  flocks,  to  use  no  guile, 
Was  honour  to  those  sober  souls  that  knew 
No  happiness  but  what  from  virtue  grew." 

168-179.  Farczvell,  etc. : — Upon  this  passage  Coleridge  has  a  very 
characteristic  remark :  "  It  is  too  venturous  to  charge  a  passage 
in  Shakespeare  with  want  of  truth  to  nature;  and  yet  at  first 
sight  this  speech  of  Oliver's  expresses  truths,  which  it  seems 
almost  impossible  that  any  mind  should  so  distinctly  have  pre- 
sented to  itself,  in  connection  with  feelings  and  intentions  so 
malignant.  But  I  dare  not  say  that  this  seeming  unnaturalness  is 
not  in  the  nature  of  an  abused  wilfulness,  when  united  with  a 
strong  intellect.     In  such  characters  there  is  sometimes  a  gloomy 

ISO 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Notes 

self-gratification  in  making  the  absoluteness  of  the  will  evident 
to  themselves  by  setting  the  reason  and  the  conscience  in  full 
array  against  it." 

Scene  II. 

8i.  old  Frederick : — Old  is  here  used  merely  as  a  term  of  fa- 
miliarity, such  as  fools  were  allowed  to  apply  or  address  to  per- 
sons of  every  sort. 

84.  zvhipped : — It  was  the  custom  to  whip  fools,  when  they  used 
their  tongues  too  freely. 

104.  laid  on  zvith  a  troivcl : — This  is  a  proverbial  phrase,  mean- 
ing to  do  any  thing  without  delicacy.  If  a  man  flatter  grossly,  it  is 
a  common  expression  to  say,  he  lays  it  on  with  a  trowel,  or,  as  we 
often  hear,  lays  it  on  thick. 

Scene  III. 

II.  my  child's  father: — So  in  the  original.  Rowe  suggested 
that  it  should  be  "  my  father's  child,"  and  that  reading  has  been 
adopted  in  several  editions.  Moberly  declares  that  "  Shakespeare 
would  have  smiled  at  the  emendation."  Coleridge  says,  "Who 
can  doubt  that  it  is  a  mistake  for  '  my  father's  child,'  meaning  her- 
self? A  most  indelicate  anticipation  is  put  into  the  mouth  of 
Rosalind  without  reason ;  and  besides,  what  a  strange  thought, 
and  how  out  of  place,  and  unintelligible !  "  Halliwell,  as  quoted 
by  Rolfe,  adds :  "  The  original  reading  would  undoubtedly  be  in- 
delicate now,  but  it  was  not  considered  so  in  the  Poet's  day.  Be- 
sides, the  change  is  inconsistent  with  the  conduct  of  the  dialogue, 
m  which  Rosalind  is  represented  as  constantly  tliinking  and 
speaking  of  her  lover."  A  full  discussion  of  the  subject  may  be 
found  in  White's  SJiakespeare's  ScJiolar. 

36.  doth  he  not  deserve  zvellf — Celia  has  already  shown  that  she 
has  no  sympathy  with  her  father's  crime,  and  she  here  speaks 
ironically,  implying  the  severest  censure  upon  him ;  her  meaning 
apparently  being,  "  It  was  because  your  father  deserved  well  that 
my  father  hated  him ;  and  ought  I  not,  on  your  principle  of  rea- 
soning, to  hate  Orlando  for  the  same  cause?  " 

106.  To  seek  my  uncle,  etc. : — "  Before  I  say  more  of  this  dra- 
matic treasure,"  observes  Campbell,  "  I  must  absolve  myself  by  a 
confession  as  to  some  of  its  improbabilities.     Rosalind  asks  her 

151 


Notes  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

cousin  Celia,  '  Whither  shall  we  go  ?  '  and  Celia  answers,  *  To  seek 
my  uncle  in  the  forest  of  Arden.'  But,  arrived  there,  and  having 
purchased  a  cottage  and  sheep-farm,  neither  the  daughter  nor 
niece  of  the  banished  Duke  seem  to  trouble  themselves  much  to 
inquire  about  either  father  or  uncle.  The  lively  and  natural- 
hearted  Rosalind  discovers  no  impatience  to  embrace  her  sire  until 
she  has  finished  her  masked  courtship  with  Orlando.  But  Rosa- 
lind was  in  love,  as  I  have  been  with  the  comedy  these  forty 
years ;  and  love  is  blind — for  until  a  late  period  my  eyes  were 
never  couched  so  as  to  see  this  objection.  The  truth,  however, 
is  that  love  is  wilfully  blind;  and  now  that  my  eyes  are  opened,  I 
shut  them  against  the  fault.  Away  with  your  best-proved  improb- 
abilities, when  the  heart  has  been  touched  and  the  fancy  fasci- 
nated! When  I  think  of  the  lovely  Mrs.  Jordan  in  this  part,  I 
have  no  more  desire  for  proofs  of  probability  on  this  subject 
(though  'proofs  pellucid  as  the  morning  dews'),  than  for  'the 
cogent  logic  of  a  bailiff's  writ. 

113  ct  seq.  Were  it  not  better,  etc.: — "There  is  no  real  suffer- 
ing for  Rosalind,"  says  Dowden,  "  in  leaving  a  weary  court  ruled 
by  the  usurper,  and  flying  to  the  forest  of  Arden,  where  her  father 
and  his  companions  are  fleeting  their  time  carelessly  as  they  did 
in  the  golden  world;  where,  moreover,  many  young  gentlemen 
flock  to  her  father ;  why  not  among  them  a  certain  gallant  wres- 
tler, son  of  the  banished  Duke's  old  friend.  Sir  Rowland  de  Boys? 
She  will  not  wander  alone,  for  Celia  goes  with  her,  and  Touch- 
stone is  to  be  a  comfort  to  her  travel.  Rosalind  is  not  a  wronged 
and  solitary  wife  like  Imogen;  she  is  a  girl  of  bright  temper, 
quick  inventive  wit,  and  glad  heart.  Accordingly,  she  throws 
herself  into  the  adventure  with  abandon,  and  will  play  her  part 
with  high  spirit." 

ACT  SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

26.  The  melancholy  Jaques,  etc. : — "  The  melancholy  of  Jaques," 
says  Brandes,  "  is  a  poetic  dreaminess.  He  is  described  to  us 
before  we  see  him.  The  banished  Duke  has  just  been  blessing 
the  adversity  which  drove  him  out  into  the  forest,  where  he  is 
exempt  from  the  dangers  of  the  envious  court.  He  is  on  the 
point  of  setting  forth  to  hunt,  when  he  learns  that  the  melancholy 

152 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Notes 

Jaqiies  repines  at  the  cruelty  of  the  chase,  and  calls  him  in  that 
respect  as  great  a  usurper  as  the  brother  who  drove  him  from 
his  dukedom.  The  courtiers  have  found  him  stretched  beneath 
an  oak,  and  dissolved  in  pity  for  a  poor  wounded  stag  which  stood 
beside  the  brook." 

31.  Under  an  oak,  etc.: — "  Shakespeare,"  says  Coleridge,  "never 
gives  a  description  of  rustic  scenery  merely  for  its  own  sake,  or 
to  show  how  well  he  can  paint  natural  objects:  he  is  never  tedi- 
ous or  elaborate ;  but  while  he  now  and  then  displays  marvelous 
accuracy  and  minuteness  of  knowledge,  he  usually  only  touches 
upon  the  larger  features  and  broader  characteristics,  leaving  the 
fillings-up  to  the  imagination.  Thus,  ...  he  describes  an  oak 
of  many  centuries'  growth  in  a  single  line : — 

'  Under  an  oak  whose  antique  root  peeps  out.' 

®ther  and  inferior  writers  would  have  dwelt  on  this  description, 
and  worked  it  out  with  all  the  pettiness  and  impertinence  of 
detail.  In  Shakespeare,  the  '  antique '  root  furnishes  the  whole 
picture." 

Steevens  quotes  Gray's  Elegy  : — 

"  There  at  the  foot  of  yonder  nodding  beech 
That  wreathes  its  old  fantastic  roots  so  high. 
His  listless  length  at  noontide  would  he  stretch, 
And  pore  upon  the  brook  that  babbles  by." 

40.  It  was  an  ancient  notion  that  a  deer,  being  closely  pursued, 
"  fleeth  to  a  ryver  or  ponde,  and  roreth,  cryeth,  and  wepeth,  when 
he  is  take."  Drayton  in  the  thirteenth  song  of  his  Polyolbion 
has  a  fine  description  of  a  deer-hunt,  which  he 'winds  up  with  an 
allusion  to  the  same  matter : — 

"  He  who  the  mourner  is  to  his  own  dying  corse, 
Upon  the  ruthless  earth  his  precious  tears  lets  fall." 

And  in  a  note  upon  the  passage  he  adds,  "  The  hart  weepeth  at  his 
dying:  his  tears  are  held  .precious  in  medicine." 

49.  To  that  which  had  too  much  : — So  in  3  Henry  VI.,  V.  iv. 
8,9:-        ■ 

"  With  tearful  eyes  add  water  to  the  sea, 
And  give  more  strength  to  that  which  hath  too  much." 

153 


Notes  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Scene  III. 

63.  a  rotten  tree : — Moberly  remarks '.  "  Orlando  says  melan- 
choly things,  as  in  I.  ii. ;  but  his  elastic  mind  rises  instantly  from 
such  thoughts ;  and  in  a  few  moments  he  anticipates  '  some  settled 
low  content.'  A  fine  instance  of  the  same  manly  temper  is  found 
in  Iliad  vi.,  where  Hector  at  one  moment  dwells  sorrowfully  on 
his  wife's  inevitable  doom  of  slavery  at  Argos  (447-465),  and  the 
next  thinks  of  her  as  a  joyful  Trojan  mother  welcoming  back 
her  victorious  son  (476-481)." 

Scene  IV. 

52.  pease od : — According  to  Davy,  the  Suffolk  kitchen-maid, 
"  when  she  shells  green  pease,  never  omits,  if  she  finds  one  having 
nine  pease,  to  lay  it  on  the  lintel  of  the  kitchen-door,  and  the  fir^ 
clown  who  enters  it  is  infallibly  to  be  her  husband,  or  at  least  her 
sweetheart."  "  Winter-time  for  shoeing,  peascod  time  for  woo- 
ing "  is  a  Devonshire  proverb.    Gay  is  thus  quoted  by  Halliwell : — 

"  As  peascods  once  I  pluck'd,  I  chanc'd  to  see 
One  that  was  closely  fill'd  with  three  times  three; 
Which,  when  cropp'd,  I  safely  home  convey'd, 
And  o'er  the  door  the  spell  in  secret  laid ; 
The  latch  mov'd  up,  when  who  should  first  come  in 
But,  in  his  proper  person,  Lubberkin." 

The  following  is  from  Browne's  Brittanias  Pastorals: — 

"  The  peascod  greene  oft  with  no  little  toyle 
Hee'd  seeke  for  in  the  fattest  fertil'st  soile. 
And  rend  it  from  the  stalke  to  bring  it  to  her, 
And  in  her  bosome  for  acceptance  wooe  her." 

Scene  VII. 

44  et  seq.  It  is  my  only  suit,  etc. : — "  It  is  Shakespeare's  own 
mood  that  we  hear  in  these  words,"  says  Brandes.  "  The  voice  is 
his.  The  utterance  is  far  too  large  for  Jaques :  he  is  only  a 
mouthpiece  for  the  Poet.  Or  let  us  say  that  his  figure  dilates  in 
such  passages  as  this,  and  we  see  in  him  a  Hamlet  avant  la  lettre." 

64-6g.  Most   misehievons,    etc.: — "The    Duke,"    says    Dowden, 

154 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Notes 

"declares  that  Jaques  has  been  *a  libertine,  as  sensual  as  the 
brutish  sting  itself ' ;  but  the  Duke  is  unable  to  understand  such 
a  character  as  that  of  Jaques.  Jaques  has  been  no  more  than  a 
curious  experimenter  in  libertinism,  for  the  sake  of  adding  an 
experience  of  madness  and  folly  to  the  store  of  various  super- 
ficial experiences  which  constitute  his  unpractical  foolery  of 
wisdom." 

70  et  scq.  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour  was 
first  acted  in  1599,  and  probably  written  before  As  You  Like  It. 
The  character  of  Asper,  wherein  the  author  clearly  personates 
himself,  is  in  some  respects  quite  similar  to  that  of  Jaques ;  inso- 
much that  a  writer  in  the  Pictorial  Shakspcre  thinks  the  latter  to 
have  been  meant  partly  as  a  satire  upon  the  former.  Asper's  satire 
is  perfectly  scorching,  his  avowed  purpose  being  to  "  strip  the 
ragged  follies  of  the  time  naked  as  at  their  birth " ;  and  the 
induction  has  some  lines  bearing  so  strong  a  resemblance  to  this 
speech  of  Jaques',  as  might  well  suggest  that  the  Poet  had  them 
in  his  mind : — 

"  If  any  here  chance  to  behold  himself, 
Let  him  not  dare  to  challenge  me  of  wrong ; 
For,  if  he  shame  to  have  his  follies  known, 
First  he  should  shame  to  act  'em :  my  strict  hand 
Was  made  to  seize  on  vice,  and  with  a  gripe 
Squeeze  out  the  humour  of  such  spongy  souls 
As  lick  up  every  idle  vanity." 

139  ct  seq.  "  Ben  Jonson,"  says  Brandes,  "  is  said  to  have  in- 
quired, in  an  epigram  against  the  motto  of  the  Globe  Theatre, 
where  the  spectators  w^ere  to  be  found  if  all  the  men  and  women 
were  players?  And  an  epigram  attributed  to  Shakespeare  gives 
the  simple  answer  that  all  are  players  and  audience  at  one  and 
the  same  time.  Jaques'  survey  of  the  life  of  man  is  admirably 
concise  and  impressive.     The  last  line — 

*  Sans  teeth,  sans  eyes,  sans  taste,  sans  every  thing ' — 

with  its  half  French  equivalent  for  *  without,'  is  imitated  from  the 
Henriade  of  the  French  poet  Garnier,  which  was  not  translated, 
and  which  Shakespeare  must  consequently  have  read  in  the 
original." 


I5S 


Notes  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

ACT  THIRD. 

Scene  I. 

17.  Make  an  extent,  etc. : — Lord  Campbell,  in  Shakespeare's 
Legal  Acquirements,  says  this  passage  reveals  the  Poet's  "deep 
technical  knowledge  of  law."  We  also  find  in  Stephen's  Com- 
mentaries on  the  Laws  of  England,  iv.  80:  ''Upon  all  debts  of 
record  due  to  the  Crown,  the  sovereign  has  his  peculiar  remedy 
by  writ  of  extent;  which  differs  in  this  respect  from  an  ordinary 
writ  of  execution  at  suit  of  the  subject,  that  under  it  the  body, 
lands,  and  goods  of  the  debtor  may  be  all  taken  at  once,  in  order 
to  compel  the  payment  of  the  debt.  And  this  proceeding  is  called 
an  extent,  from  the  words  of  the  writ;  which  directs  the  sheriff 
to  cause  the  lands,  goods,  and  chattels  to  be  appraised  at  their  full, 
or  extended,  value  {extendi  facias),  before  they  are  delivered  to 
satisfy  the  debt." 

Scene  II. 

i-io.  This  passage  seems  to  evince  a  most  intimate  knowledge 
of  ancient  mythology;  but  Shakespeare  was  doubtless  familiar 
with  Chapman's  Hymns  to  Night  and  to  Cynthia,  which,  though 
over-informed  with  learning,  have  many  highly  poetical  passages, 
among  v/hich  is  the  following: — 

"  Nature's  bright  eye-sight,  and  the  night's  fair  soul. 
That  with  thy  triple  forehead  dost  control 
Earth,  seas,  and  hell." 

31.  of  good  breeding: — In  Ben  Jonson's  Sad  Slicphcrd,  Lionel 
says  of  Amie :  "  She  's  sick  of  the  young  shepherd  that  bekist 
her  " ;  sick  for  want  of  him.     So  often  in  Shakespeare. 

150.  Atalanta's  better  part: — A  puzzling  passage  for  the  com- 
mentators. "  The  imagery  selected,"  says  Whiter,  "  to  discrim- 
inate the  perfections  of  Helen,  Cleopatra,  Atalanta,  and  Lucretia 
was  not  derived  from  the  abstract  consideration  of  their  general 
qualities ;  but  was  caught  from  those  peculiar  traits  of  beauty  and 
character  which  are  impressed  on  the  mind  of  him  who  contem- 
plates their  portraits.  It  is  well  known  that  these  celebrated 
heroines  of  romance  were,  in  the  days  of  our  Poet,  the  favourite 
subjects  of  popular  representation,  and  were  alike  visible  in  the 

IS6 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Notes 

coarse  hangings  of  the  poor  and  the  magnificent  arras  of  the  rich. 
In  the  portraits  of  Helen,  whether  they  were  produced  by  the 
skilful  artist  or  his  ruder  imitator,  though  her  face  would  cer- 
tainly be  delineated  as  eminently  beautiful,  yet  she  appears  not  to 
have  been  adorned  with  any  of  those  charms  which  are  allied  to 
modesty;  and  we  accordingly  find  that  she  was  generally  depicted 
with  a  loose  and  insidious  countenance,  which  but  too  manifestly 
betrayed  the  inward  wantonness  and  perfidy  of  her  heart.    With 
respect  to  the  'majesty'  of  Cleopatra,  it  may  be  observed  that 
this  notion  is  not  derived  from  classical  authority,  but  from  the 
more  popular  storehouse  of  legend  and  romance.     I  infer,  there- 
fore, that  the  familiarity  of  the  image  was  impressed,  both  on  the 
Poet  and  his  reader,  from  pictures  or  representations  in  tapestry, 
which  were  the  lively  and  faithful  mirrors  of  popular  romances. 
Atalanta,  we  know,  was  considered  by  our  ancient  poets  as  a  cele- 
brated beauty;  and  we  may  be  assured,  therefore,  that  her  por- 
traits were  everywhere  to  be  found.     Since  the  story  of  Atalanta 
represents  that  heroine  as  possessed  of  singular  beauty,  zealous  to 
preserve  her  virginity   even  with  the  death  of  her  lovers,   and 
accomplishing  her  purposes  by  extraordinary  swiftness  in  run- 
ning, we  may  be  assured  that  the  skill  of  the  artist  would  be  em- 
ployed in  displaying  the  most  perfect  expressions  of  virgin  purity, 
and  in  delineating  the  fine  proportions  and  elegant  symmetry  of 
her  person.     Lucretia  (we  know)  was  the  grand  example  of  con- 
jugal fidelity  throughout  the  Gothic  ages;  and  it  is  this  spirit  of 
unshaken   chastity   which    is   here  celebrated   under   the   title   of 
'modesty.'  . 

"  Such,  then,  are  the  wishes  of  the  lover  in  the  formation  of  his 
mistress — that  the  ripe  and  brilliant  beauties  of  Helen  should  be 
united  to  the- elegant  symmetry  and  virgin  graces  of  Atalanta; 
and  that  this  union  of  charms  should  be  still  dignified  and  en- 
nobled by  the  majestic  mien  of  Cleopatra,  and  the  matron  modesty 
of  Lucretia." 

190,  191.  In  Holland's  translation  of  Pliny,  Shakespeare  found 
that  "two  hills  removed  by  an  earthquake  encountered  together, 
charging  as  it  were  and  with  violence  assaulting  one  another,  and 
retiring  again  with  a  most  mighty  noise." 

Scene  III. 

[Enter  .  .  .  Audrey.]  Audrey  is  a  corruption  of  Etheldreda. 
The  saint  of  that  name  is  so  styled  in  ancient  calendars. 

157 


Notes  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

38.  foul: — Audrey  uses  foul  as  opposed  to  fair',  that  is,  for 
plain,  homely.  She  has  good  authority  for  doing  so.  Thus,  in 
Thomas's  History  of  Italy :  "  If  the  maiden  be  fair,  she  is  soon 
had,  and  little  money  given  with  her;  if  she  be  foul,  they  advance 
her  with  a  better  portion." 

62.  horn  : — The  learned  Fool  appears  to  use  horn  in  a  threefold 
sense  for  the  ideal  horn,  which  the  Poet  so  often  assigns  to  abused 
husbands,  the  horn  of  plenty,  cornucopia,  and  such  horns  as  are 
commonly  worn  by  horned  cattle. 

99.  The  ballad  of  "  O  sweet  Oliver,  leave  me  not  behind  thee," 
and  the  answer  to  it,  are  entered  on  the  Stationers'  books  in  1584 
and  1586.  Touchstone  says,  I  will  sing,  not  that  part  of  the  ballad 
which  says,  "  Leave  me  not  behind  thee  "  ;  but  that  which  says, 
"  Begone,  I  say,"  probably  part  of  the  answer. 

Scene  V. 

37-40.  What  though  you  have  no  beauty,  etc.: — The  commenta- 
tors have  made  much  ado  over  this  passage.  Some  would  strike 
out  no  before  beauty,  others  would  change  it  into  mo,  or  more: 
whereas  the  peculiar  force  of  the  passage  is,  that  Rosalind,  wish- 
ing to  humble  Phebe,  takes  for  granted  that  she  is  herself  aware  she 
has  no  beauty,  and  is  therefore  proud,  even  because  she  has  none. 
Rosalind  knows  that  to  tell  her  she  ought  not  to  be  proud  because 
she  has  beauty,  would  but  make  her  prouder ;  she  therefore  tells 
her  she  ought  not  to  be  proud  because  she  lacks  it.  The  best  way 
to  take  down  people's  pride  often  is,  to  assume  that  they  cannot 
be  so  big  fools  as  to  think  they  have  anything  to  be  proud  of. 

62.  Foul  is  most  foul,  etc. : — That  is,  the  ugly  seem  most  ugly, 
when,  as  if  proud  of  their  ugliness,  they  set  up  for  scoffers. 

66,  67.  He  's  fallen  in  love  zvith  your  foulness,  etc. : — The  first 
clause  of  this  sentence  is  addressed  to  Phebe ;  the  other  to  the  rest 
of  the  company.  Your  is  commonly  changed  to  her;  whereas  the 
very  strength  of  the  speech  lies  in  its  being  spoken  to  the  person 
herself. 

78,  79.  though  all  the  world,  etc. : — If  all  men  could  see  you, 
none  could  be  so  deceived  as  to  think  you  beautiful  but  him. 

82.  This  line  is  from  Marlowe's  translation  of  Hero  and  Lcander, 
which  was  not  printed  till  1598,  though  the  author  was  killed  in 
1593-  The  poem  was  deservedly  popular,  and  the  words  "  dead 
shepherd "  look  as  though  Shakespeare  remembered  him  with 
affection.     The  passage  runs  as  follows : — 

158 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  *  Notes 

"  It  lies  not  in  our  power  to  love  or  hate, 
For  will  in  us  is  overrul'd  by  fate. 
When  two  are  stripp'd,  long  ere  the  course  begin, 
We  wish  that  one  should  lose,  the  other  win ; 
And  one  especially  we  do  affect 
Of  two  gold  ingots,  like  in  each  respect. 
The  reason  no  man  knows :    let  it  suffice, 
What  we  behold  is  censur'd  by  our  eyes. 
Where  both  deliberate,  the  love  is  slight: 
Who  ever  lov'd,  that  lov'd  not  at  first  sight  ?  " 

123.  constant  red  and  mingled  damask: — Shakespeare  appar- 
ently has  reference  to  the  red  rose,  which  is  red  all  over  alike, 
and  the  damask  rose,  in  which  various  shades  of  colour  are 
mingled. 

ACT  FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

38.  s-ivam  in  a  gondola  : — That  is,  been  at  Venice,  then  the  resort 
of  travellers,  as  Paris  is  now;  all  visitors  to  Venice  being  sup- 
posed, of  course,  to  sail  in  a  gondola.  Shakespeare's  contempo- 
raries also  point  their  shafts  at  the  corruption  of  youth  by  travel. 
Bishop  Hall  wrote  his  little  book  Quo  Vadis?  to  stem  the  fashion. 
Venice  at  that  time  was,  according  to  Johnson,  the  seat  of  all 
licentiousness,  where  young  English  gentlemen  wasted  their  for- 
tunes and  debased  their  characters. 

66.  leer: — This  term  was  anciently  used  simply  for  look,  its 
original  meaning  being  face,  countenance,  complexion.  In  The 
Venice  at  that  time  was,  according  to  Johnson,  the  seat  of  all 
the  leer  of  invitation."  And  in  an  old  ballad,  The  Witch  of 
Wokey : — 

"  Her  haggard  face  was  foull  to  see ; 
Her  mouth  unmeet  a  mouth  to  bee ; 
Her  eyne  of  deadly  leer." 

Again,  in  Holland's  Pliny :  "  In  some  places  there  are  no  other 
thing  bred  or  growing  but  brown  and  duskish,  insomuch  as  not 
only  the  cattel  is  all  of  that  here,  but  also  the  corne  upon  the 
ground,  and  other  fruits  of  the  earth." 

140.  a  girl  goes  before  the  priest: — That  is,  goes  faster  than  the 

159 


Notes  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

priest,  gets  ahead  of  him  in  the  service ;  alluding  to  her  antici- 
pating what  was  to  be  said  first  by  Celia. 

155.  Diana  in  the  fountain  : — Figures,  and  particularly  that  of 
Diana,  v/ith  water  conveyed  through  them,  were  anciently  a  fre- 
quent ornament  of  fountains.  So  in  The  City  Match :  "  Now 
could  I  cry  like  any  image  in  a  fountain,  which  runs  lamen- 
tations." 

172.  zvitJwut  her  anszver: — This  bit  of  satire  is  also  to  be  found 
in  Chaucer's  Marchantes  Tale,  where  Proserpine  says  of  women 
on  like  occasion :    "  For  lacke  of  answere  none  of  us  shall  dien." 

174,  175.  cannot  make  her  fault,  etc.: — The  text  may  be  uncer- 
tain. As  it  stands,  it  appears  to  mean,  "  make  her  husband  out  to 
be  the  occasion  of  her  fault." 


Scene  III. 

102.  sweet  and  bitter  fancy: — Thus  Lodge's  novel:  "Wherein 
I  have  noted  the  variable  disposition  of  fancy,  that  lyke  the  polype 
in  colours,  so  it  changeth  into  sundry  humors,  being  as  it  should 
seeme,  a  combat  mixt  with  disquiet,  and  a  bitter  pleasure  wrapt  in 
a  sweet  prejudice,  lyke  to  the  synople  tree,  whose  blossomes  de- 
light the  smell,  and  whose  fruit  infects  the  taste." 

109.  A  green  and  gilded  snake: — Hudson's  original  comment, 
introduced  at  this  point,  runs  as  follows:  The  bringing  lions, 
serpents,  palm-trees,  rustic  shepherds,  and  banished  noblemen 
together  in  the  forest  of  Arden,  is  a  strange  piece  of  geographical 
license,  which  the  critics  of  course  have  not  failed  to  grow  big 
withal.  Perhaps  they  did  not  see  that  the  very  grossness  of  the 
thing  proves  it  to  have  been  designed.  By  this  irregular  combina- 
tion of  actual  things  Shakespeare  informs  the  whole  v/ith  ideal 
effect,  giving  to  this  charming  issue  of  his  brain  "  a  local  habita- 
tion and  a  name,"  that  it  may  link  in  with  our  flesh-and-blood 
sympathies,  and  at  the  same  time  turning  it  into  a  wild,  won- 
derful, remote,  fairy-land  region,  where  all  sorts  of  poetical  things 
may  take  place  without  the  slightest  difficulty.  Of  course  Shake- 
speare would  not  have  done  thus,  but  that  he  saw  quite  through 
the  grand  critical  humbug,  which  makes  the  proper  effect  of  a 
work  of  art  depend  upon  our  belief  in  the  actual  occurrence  of  the 
thing  represented. 


160 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Notes 

ACT   FIFTH. 

Scene  IV. 

113.  [Enter  Hymen,  etc.]  Rosalind  is  imagined  by  the  rest  of 
the  company  to  be  brought  by  enchantment,  and  is  therefore  in- 
troduced by  a  supposed  aerial  being  in  the  character  of  Hymen. 

166  et  seq.  Where  meeting  with  an  old  religions  man,  etc. : — ;In 
Lodge's  novel  the  usurper  is  not  turned  from  his  purpose  by  any 
such  pious  counsels,  but  conquered  and  killed  by  the  twelve  peers 
of  France,  who  undertake  the  cause  of  Gerismond,  their  rightful 
king.  Here  is  a  part  of  Fernandine's  speech :  "  For  know,  Geris- 
mond, that  hard  by  at  the  edge  of  this  forest  the  twelve  peers  of 
France  are  up  in  arms  to  recover  thy  right ;  and  Torismond, 
troop'd  with  a  crew  of  desperate  runagates,  is  ready  to  bid  them 
battle.  The  armies  are  ready  to  join:  therefore  show  thyself  in 
the  field  to  encourage  thy  subjects.  And  you,  Saladyne  and 
Rosader,  mount  you,  and  show  yourselves  as  hardy  soldiers  as 
you  have  been  hearty  lovers :  so  shall  you  for  the  benefit  of  your 
country  discover  the  idea  of  your  father's  virtues  to  be  stamped 
in  your  thoughts,  and  prove  children  worthy  of  so  honourable  a 
parent." 

202.  [Exit  Jaques.]  "  The  reader,"  says  Hudson,  "  feels  some 
regret  to  take  his  leave  of  Jaques  in  this  manner ;  and  no  less 
concern  at  not  meeting  with  the  faithful  old  Adam  at  the  close. 
It  is  the  more  remarkable  that  Shakespeare  should  have  for- 
gotten him,  because  Lodge,  in  his  novel,  makes  him  captain  of  the 
king's  guard." 

EPILOGUE. 

18.  If  I  zvere  a  zuoman  : — As  in  the  Poet's  time,  the  parts  of 
women  were  played  by  men  or  boys,  no  actress  having  appeared 
on  the  English  stage  before  1660,  the  following  quotations  from 
Pepys  threw  interesting  light  upon  the  assumption  of  female  parts 
by  male  actors  in  Shakespeare's  day  and  subsequently : — 

August  i8th,  1660.  "  Captain  Ferrers  took  me  and  Creed  to 
see  the  Cockpitt  play,  the  first  that  I  have  had  time  to  see  since 
my  coming  from  sea.  'The  Loyall  Subject,'  where  one  Kinaston, 
a  boy,  acted  the  Duke's  sister,  but  made  the  loveliest  lady  that 
ever  I  saw  in  my  life." 

161 


Notes  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

January  3,  1660.  "  To  the  Theatre,  where  was  acted  *  Beg- 
gar's Bush,'  it  being  very  well  done;  and  here  the  first  time  that 
ever  I  saw  women  come  upon  the  stage." 

January  8,  1660/1.  "  After  dinner  I  took  my  Lord  Hinchin- 
broke  and  Mr.  Sidney  to  the  Theatre,  and  shewed  them  '  The 
Widdow,'  an  indifferent  good  play,  but  wronged  by  the  women 
being  too  seek  in  their  parts." 

Feb.  12,  1660/1.  "  By  water  to  Salsbury  Court  play-house, 
where  not  liking  to  sit,  we  went  out  again,  and  by  coach  to  the 
Theatre,  and  there  saw  '  The  Scornfull  Lady,'  now  done  by  a 
woman,  which  makes  the  play  appear  much  better  than  ever  it 
did  to  me." 


162 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 


Questions  on 
As  You  Like  It. 


1.  Give  in  brief  the  sources  of  this  play. 

2.  Explain  the  title. 

3.  What  place  is  doubtless  celebrated  in  the  scene  of  the  action? 

ACT  FIRST. 

4.  What  aspects  of  the  general  theme  of  the  drama  are  depicted 
in  the  opening  of  the  play? 

5.  Are  the  distresses  that  Orlando  suffers  such  as  lead  one  to 
expect  a  comedy  or  a  tragedy?     Support  your  view  by  arguments. 

6.  What  is  the  function  of  Adam  in  the  play? 

7.  Indicate  the  dramatic  purpose  of  the  wrestling  match. 

8.  How  does  it  serve  to  introduce  the  protagonists? 

9.  What  is  Rosalind's  position  in  reference  to  her  surroundings 
as  shown  in  Sc.  ii.? 

ID.  What  is  Frederick's  attitude  towards  Orlando?  What 
reconciliation  is  here  foreshadowed? 

11.  How  does  Shakespeare  depict  love  at  first  sight?  Where 
else  in  the  play  is  there  a  repetition  of  the  situation? 

12.  Summarize  the  points  of  superiority  that  Orlando  possesses 
by  reason  of  gentle  birth  and  breeding. 

13.  Is  Shakespeare  aristocratic  in  social  feeling?  Do  you  find 
in  any  of  his  plays  a  treatment  of  love  between  unequals? 

14.  As  the  first  Act  depicts  the  essential  traits  of  Rosalind  and 
Celia,  show  in  what  way  they  are  made  to  be  foils.  Is  Celia  any 
less  individual  because  her  part  is  only  contributory  to  the  story 
of  Rosalind? 

15.  What  is  the  dramatic  purpose  of  the  banishment  of  Rosa- 
lind?    What  motive  for  it  does  Frederick  assign? 

16.  Who  proposes  flight  to  the  forest  of  Arden?  How  does 
Rosalind  describe  herself  in  male  attire?  Compare  this  descrip- 
tion with  Portia's  on  the  same  theme.  Mention  other  plays  in 
which  Shakespeare  so  disguises  his  heroines. 

163 


Questions  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

17.  Show  in  what  way  the  disguise  is  a  liberator  irom  social 
restraint,  so  that  Rosalind  has  opportunity  to  display  her  real 
character. 

ACT  SECOND. 

18.  What  comparison  does  the  Duke  make  of  the  life  of  courts 
and  the  life  of  nature? 

19.  How  do  we  see  that  the  stiihhornness  of  fortune,  under 
which  these  denizens  of  the  forest  suffer,  is  really  only  a  dramatic 
subterfuge  and  not  the  actual  intent  of  the  play? 

20.  How  is  Jaques  introduced?  Show  the  difference  between 
the  ordinary  meaning  of  the  word  melancholy  and  Shakespeare's 
use  denoting  a  melancholic  disposition. 

21.  What  sympathy  with  animal  life  is  shown  in  Sc.  i.  ? 

22.  How  does  Shakespeare  show  contrast  between  beasts  of  prey 
and  beasts  that  are  preyed  upon  by  man  ? 

23.  Show  how  Scenes  ii.  and  iii.  are  transition  scenes  in  the  ac- 
tion.   What  contrast  is  there  between  the  two  in  dramatic  method? 

24.  What  humorous  commingling  of  masculine  and  feminine 
touches  do  we  observe  in  the  first  scene  presenting  Rosalind  in 
male  attire? 

25.  Show  how  gradation  as  a  dramatic  effect  is  employed  by 
the  early  introduction  of  the  love-affair  of  Silvius  and  Phebe. 

26.  Is  Silvius  rather  a  poetic  abstraction,  showing  love  un- 
touched by  social  convention,  than  a  rustic  in  love? 

27.  What  aspect  of  love-passion  does  Touchstone  represent? 
What  episode  of  the  play  is  foreshadowed  in  his  comments  on 
love? 

28.  Show  how  Sc.  V.  is  of  the  nature  of  lyric  interlude. 

29.  Why  is  so  much  of  Act.  H.  given  up  to  the  depicting  of 
Jaques? 

30.  What  do  you  know  of  his  past  life? 

31.  Is  his  viclancholy  the  result  of  disillusion,  or  is  it  an  ele- 
ment in  his  nature? 

32.  How  is  Jaques  affected  by  music?  For  an  illuminating 
comment  on  his  kind,  and  on  his  liking  for  music,  see  Tlie  Mer- 
chant of  Venice,  V.  i.  83  et  seq. 

2,3.  What  report  does  he  make  of  his  encounter  with  Touch- 
stone? 

34.  Who  gives  the  cue  for  Jaques'  speech,  All  the  world's  a 
stage,  etc. 

164 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Questions 

35.  Cite  parallel  passages  upon  the  world  as  a  stage,  to  Td© 
found  in  Shakespeare  and  in  other  literature. 

36.  Repeat  the  song  with  which  Act  II.  closes. 

ZJ.  Consider  the  refrain  at  the  end  of  each  stanza.  What  i? 
there  distinctively  Elizabethan  in  the  temper  of  it?  How  differ- 
ently would  it  be  philosophized  if  it  were  written  in  the  nine- 
teenth century? 

ACT   THIRD. 

38.  What  turn  in  the  fortunes  of  Orlando  is  noted  in  Sc.  i.? 

39.  What  part  of  the  action  is  foreshadowed  here? 

40.  Through  Touchstone,  what  aspects  of  life  do  we  see 
satirized? 

41.  Is  the  wisdom  of  Corin  sound  from  the  rustic's  point  of 
view? 

42.  How  does  Shakespeare  usually  depict  rustics? 

43.  What  effect  of  contrast  is  produced  by  the  scene  following 
the  dialogue  of  Touchstone  and  Corin? 

44.  How  do  lovers  declare  their  passion  in  the  forest  of  Arden? 

45.  What  are  the  qualities  that  characterize  the  dialogue  be- 
tween Celia  and  Rosalind  in  Sc.  ii.? 

46.  What  is  the  dramatic  purpose  of  this? 

47.  Indicate  the  purpose  of  the  ensuing  scene  between  Jaques 
and  Orlando. 

48.  What  did  Jaques  like  in  Orlando?  Why  did  he  allow  him- 
self to  be  so  easily  entrapped? 

49.  Was  Orlando  too  full  of  love  and  self  to  appreciate  Jaques? 
What  is  the  underlying  pathos  of  this  dialogue? 

50.  Is  not  the  spirit  of  Rosalind  in  her  encounter  with  Orlando 
charged  with  sex?     Why  did  not  Orlando  pierce  the  disguise? 

51.  Indicate  the  kind  of  humour  in  Sc!  iii. 

52.  What  reasons  in  nature  do  you  see  for  the  match  between 
Touchstone  and  Audrey?  What  was  Jaques'  opinion  regard- 
ing it? 

53.  Sc.  iv.  throws  what  new  light  upon  Rosalind? 

54.  Construct  from  Rosalind's  brief  report  her  meeting  with 
the  Duke  her  father.  How  does  Corin's  message  serve  to  link 
this  with  the  following  Scene? 

55.  Is  it  often  Shakespeare's  custom  to  make  his  scenes  con- 
secutive in  action?  What  gain  is  there  in  reality  by  following 
the  opposite  course? 

56.  Though  making  her  speak  in  poetic  expression,  how  does 

165 


Questions  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT 

Shakespeare  preserve  the  rustic  nature  of  the  Prebe?   Comment  on 
Sc.  v.,  lines  8  et  seq. 

57.  How  is  it  shown  that  Phebe  falls  in  love  with  Rosalind? 
Do  you  see  Phebe  in  the  same  way  that  Rosalind  did? 

58.  Does  Phebe  change  at  all  her  attitude  toward  Silvius  after 
Rosalind  goes  out? 

59.  Collect  the  bits  of  personal  description  of  Rosalind  in  the 
play  and  tell  what  she  looks  like. 

60.  Compare  Phebe  and  Rosalind  as  lovers  of  men.  How  dif- 
ferently do  their  thoughts  run? 

ACT  FOURTH. 

61.  Account  for  Jaques'  interest  in  Orlando  and  in  Rosalind. 
Is  it  owing  to  their  youth?     How  old  do  you  take  Jaques  to  be? 

62.  How  does  Jaques  account  for  his  melancholy? 

63.  Why  does  Shakespeare  always  leave  him  worsted  at  the 
hands  of  inexperience? 

64.  How  does  Shakespeare  satirize  the  travelled  youth  of  his 
day? 

65.  How  does  this  second  encounter  between  Orlando  and 
Rosalind  begin? 

66.  How  does  Rosalind,  like  Phebe,  answer  the  assertion  that 
men  suffer  for  love? 

67.  How  do  you  defend  the  forwardness  of  many  of  Shake- 
speare's heroines  in  love-making? 

68.  What  is  said  of  a  woman's  wit? 

69.  On  what  pretext  does  Orlando  leave  Rosalind?  Is  there 
reality  as  well  as  humour  in  it? 

70.  How  does  Celia  chide  Rosalind  after  Orlando  has  gone? 
Is  Orlando  so  in  love  with  the  idea  of  love  that  he  is  blind  to 
realities?  • 

71.  Does  Orlando  ever  make  such  a  forthright  demonstration 
of  himself  as  to  justify  the  opinions  held  of  him  by  others?  Does 
Shakespeare  experience  the  same  difficulty  that  Scott  complained 
of  in  making  his  heroes  interesting? 

72.  Does  Sc.  i.  mark  the  climax  of  the  drama? 

73.  What  is  Celia's  humorous  comment  on  Rosalind's  ecstatic 
state?     How  long  can  all  the  world  love  a  lover? 

74.  What  does  Sc.  ii.  contribute  to  the  plot? 

75.  What  new  aspect  of  Rosalind  is  seen  in  her  reading  of  the 
letter  of  Phebe?     What  message  does  Rosalind  send? 

76.  When  was  Oliver  last  seen  in  the  play?    Why  has  Shake- 

166 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT  Questions 

speare   changed   his   speech   from  prose   to   verse?     What   story- 
does  he  tell?     Show  how  here  begins  the  resolution  of  the  drama. 
What  part  of  the  story  causes  Rosalind  to  faint? 
"JT,  How  does  Oliver  penetrate  the  counterfeiting  of  Rosalind? 

ACT  FIFTH. 

78.  Is  the  scene  between  William  and  Touchstone  a  necessary 
part  of  the  resolution  ? 

79.  Why  has  William  not  been  introduced  before? 

80.  What  does  the  episodic  nature  of  this  Scene  afford  for  the 
general  action? 

81.  Is  there  adequate  preparation  for  the  love  affair  of  Oliver 
and  Celia?  Does  this  failure  amount  to  an  artistic  blemish? 
What  motive  was  supplied  by  Lodge  in  the  fiction  from  which 
Shakespeare  derived  the  materials  of  this  play?  What  harmony- 
is  there  with  one  of  the  motifs  of  the  play? 

82.  Why  is  so  much  of  the  fifth  Act  set  down  in  prose?  De- 
scribe the  completion  of  the  resolution. 

83.  How  does  Jaques  show  his  interest  in  the  marriage  of 
Touchstone  and  Audrey? 

^4.  What  points  of  autobiography  does  Touchstone  furnish? 

85.  What  becomes  of  Jaques  after  the  company  in  the  forest 
disperses? 

86.  What  is  his  prophecy  for  each  of  the  men?  Why  has  he  no 
words  for  the  women?  Why  are  almost  the  last  words  of  the 
drama  in  character  given  to  him  to  speak? 


87.  What  is  the  dominant  spirit  of  this  play? 

88.  What  principle   of  moral   life  may  be   said  to  be  held  in 
solution  here? 

89.  What  elements  of  implied  tragedy  does  It  contain? 

90.  Does   the  mediation   of   tragic   forces   in   deference   to   the 
spirit  of  comedy  become  a  legitimate  expedient  In  art? 

91.  Indicate  the  kinds  of  humour  displayed  in  Rosalind,  Touch- 
stone, and  Jaques. 

92.  Mention  some  ways  In  which  the  atmosphere  of  the  forest 
is  conveyed. 

93.  In  contrast  with  what  Is  the  free  and  untrammeled  life  of 
the  forest  presented? 

94.  Give  some  reasons  why  Shakespeare  so  frequently  disguised 
his  heroines  in  male  attire. 

167 


L  009  gys'sia's 


